


Convalescence and Corpulence

by cuddlesome



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Character psychoanalysis?, Consensual Sex, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), In my fat kink fic?, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Injury Recovery, Masturbation, Overeating, Slow Build, Voyeurism, Weight Gain, it's more likely than you think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2018-08-15 18:43:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 24,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8068561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlesome/pseuds/cuddlesome
Summary: Following the destruction of Starkiller, Kylo Ren eats to excess out of spite and boredom during his recovery. He does not consider the consequences until it is far too late.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo adopts terrible coping habits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a fair warning to new readers: as you can tell by the timestamp, this fic was started back in 2016 aka pre-TLJ era. Not so much of a hint of a trailer for us poor reylo fools to go off of, just TFA and dreams. As a result of that, the timeline of this fic is a bit screwy and some of the details contradict the current 2018 canon--the way that the Force bond works, the length of time Kylo suffered from his injuries, the severity of his facial scar, Luke's characterization all-around (he's much nicer in this fic than in canon), and nary a mention of the caretakers because we hadn't had them revealed to be on Ahch-To yet.
> 
> All that said, I believe that this fic is possible to enjoy despite those inaccuracies. I hope you give it a chance and end up agreeing with me on that front.

When the doctors aboard the _Finalizer_ gave him some parameters for what he should eat during his recovery from his injuries on Starkiller, Kylo was not surprised.

 

He had always kept to a strict dietary regimen of his own volition, suppressing cravings like the taste for alcohol he inherited from his father. The only exceptions came during his childhood and a few times as a teenager. These exceptions mostly came as a result of his uncle offering him hot chocolate on special occasions after training. Kylo preferred not to think of those times.

 

Taking care not to slow down his healing process by eating poorly only made sense. However, Kylo was not a sensible person. Being told what to do by someone other than the supreme leader awakened the recalcitrant streak in him. In light of his thorough defeat, he was in an even touchier mood than usual, so it did not take much for him to make a rash decision: Kylo cheated on the diet at every opportunity just to spite the medical staff.

 

Through his personal brand of mind manipulation and intimidation, Kylo had the nurses unlucky enough to be tasked with caring for him bring him all manners of food. The mess hall that the stormtroopers dined in did not have much. The mealbread was dry and hard and numian cream stuck to the roof of his mouth. He was better off eating the tasteless protein cubes some of his knights ate.

 

So he ordered his hapless mind slaves to get him food from the officers’ mess. It was then that he realized why some of the officers in the First Order had gotten so soft. Imported delicacies far too excessive for a military regime both surprised and disgusted Kylo with their extravagance. His more negative feelings did not stop him from ripping into meat dripping with rich sauces and swallowing carefully constructed pastries whole. He took care to lick the sauce and powdered sugar from his plump lips in full view of the doctors before sneering at them.

 

His right arm had to be kept almost entirely immobile while it healed. Between that and his blaster wound, Kylo ended up being bedridden for a good portion of the day and with hindered capability to feed himself. At first, he had those who he had compelled to get him food handfeed him his meals. He quickly realized being handfed felt like he was being babied. It was enough that they had to help him do menial tasks like shaving and bathing; he could at the very least feed himself. So instead he took to using his working arm to levitate the food through the air with the Force, hovering it in front of his face so he could bite into it. The sacrilege that probably came with using his powers to gorge himself made it all the more pleasurable.

 

Aside from meditation, easily his least favorite Force-related activity, the only things Kylo could do for entertainment were study holobooks, watch the holonet, and eat. Kylo became all but addicted to fatty, sugary, salty food in large quantities. Some part of him knew that he was being childish, stuffing himself with every calorific thing presented to him for the sake of spiting the very people who took care of him. That part of himself had been filed away in his mind right next to the part that knew that wrecking computer terminals with his lightsaber was not a healthy way to vent his anger.

 

Unlike with his habit of destroying his surroundings when angry, however, Kylo did suffer some consequences due to his eating habits. Over the course of his hospitalization, his stomach transformed from a hard stretch of abdominal muscles to a swollen, pinkened paunch in short order and from there the tautness was replaced by soft, drooping fat. The blaster wound on his side tore at one point with the strain of his growth, setting his recovery back even further. His increasing softness did not end with his stomach, either; the bulk of muscle that had wasted away on his limbs due to lack of exercise was bulked up again to its previous size and then some with flab. Even the hard lines of his face were buried beneath a new layer of fat. The ragged, puckered seam of his scar stood in some contrast to the supple, pliant cheek it now cut across.

 

The scar…

 

Kylo would run his fingers over his face and shoulder and think of _her_ , sometimes. He wondered how much more disgusted the scavenger girl would be with him now. A lot, no doubt, considering the only being in Niima that could afford to be eat extravagantly was her effective slaver, from what Kylo gleaned from her memories. He liked to think that he bore the weight better than that… thing. Kylo was only a bit plump at the moment, after all, and his black robes would be very slimming. She might not even notice the change.

 

Not unless they stopped fighting long enough for their bodies to be crushed up against each other, limbs and minds entangled. Her thoughts might ring with confusion tinged with interest if she felt his stomach bulging against her hand when she went to pull off his belt—

 

Kylo shook his head, fighting to ignore the heat that had spread over his cheeks, neck, and ears. Sudden thoughts of her needed to be tempered. He shoved a jelly slathered roll into his mouth and tried to concentrate on the taste instead. It was because of the scavenger girl he got laid up like this. Dignifying her with his thoughts beyond crushing her will and convincing her to join him were unnecessary. Even then, he should despise her for bringing about so many changes in him.

 

And while Kylo did notice the changes, he chose to interpret them as not as extreme as they actually were. He had never been overweight in his life, only ever teetering on underweight, so the sensation of taking up more space and being weighed down by his own body was noticeable. He kept himself thoroughly wrapped in blankets at every moment of the day, hiding the bulk from the nurses and himself. He did not spend an overly long amount of time examining himself in the ’fresher, his bad arm hanging mostly out of the way of the water.

 

He reasoned for a long time while he was merely a bit plump that he would get back to his training and the weight would melt right off. He deluded himself in this way up until the day he realized he had become well and truly fat.

 

That day came toward the end of his recovery. Kylo ran the fingers on his working hand across the underside of his gut. Absently, he scratched at the coarse patch of hair beneath his navel, only to freeze at the resulting tremors across his flesh. Against his better judgement, he lifted his blankets. Both the blubbery swell of his gut and his meaty forearm were suddenly in harrowing clarity. Kylo swallowed. Surely it had not become that much? He poked and prodded, stopping to test the heft in his palm where his pale, freckled, and newly stretch mark covered belly pooled over his pants.

 

It was at that moment that Kylo Ren’s carefully-constructed denial fell to pieces.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo recovers (mostly).

That night, Kylo decided that he was leaving the medical bay and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.

 

Kylo threatened a medical droid that had come to give him his daily application of bacta into getting him some new clothing. Mind manipulation did not extend to droids, of course, but Kylo needed only to show them what he could do with his lightsaber before they were practically tripping over themselves to disobey basic programming. Even if the droid did bring him an outfit that was no doubt stolen from a doctor and entirely white. Not his color. And it made him look even larger. He did not like it, but it was not as though he planned on wearing it for long.

 

The shirt provided to him had sleeves clung to his upper arms in a way that was a lot tighter than when his gambeson clung to them when they were muscular, but he could at least pretend it was the same sensation. Trying to pick up the pieces of his refusal to believe what had occurred and haphazardly gluing them back together was the only way he knew how to cope.

 

He applied the same logic to the way the fabric squeezed his thighs and calves. His stomach, on the other hand, doughy, formless mass that it was, was entirely beyond his levels of self-deception. The shirt was a button-up, a design that he came to realize presented difficulty when trying to keep it wrapped around his torso for long enough to get the buttons closed. Eventually he succeeded, but there were diamonds of space where flab swelled through between the buttons.

 

As someone who usually covered every inch of his skin, this upset Kylo immensely. He took it out on his hospital bed with his lightsaber and a series of shouts. Bad enough he did not have gloves, or shoes, or his mask, but this… this was just humiliating, even with no one else around to see. He might as well be naked.

 

To further compound how upset he was, Kylo realized that although his sword arm was more or less healed, his refusal to accept rehabilitation along with the fat weighing it down made his swings limp and slow. Kylo spun his lightsaber in circle through the air once, then shut it off and clipped it to his waistband. Even FN-2187 could beat him in this state. Pathetic.

 

Kylo left the medical bay during off hours without permission, his final act of spitting in the face of the _Finalizer_ ’s medical staff along with the thorough lightsaber slashing he had given his bed. There was very little activity onboard the ship at the time. He still had to dodge a few stormtroopers and officers on his way to his chambers. Squeezing into the small hallways that branched off of the main ones was uncomfortable. Still, that was nowhere near as bad as it would be if they discovered him; barefoot, out of uniform, and with no discernable resemblance to any of the officers. Even if he drew his lightsaber he got the feeling they would not realize who he was. They might get the idea if he started suffocating them with the Force.

 

Absurdly, even knowing he would kill anyone who got into a confrontation with him, Kylo continued to avoid everyone due mostly to the idea of someone seeing his face. His vulnerable, unguarded, expressive face, now further ruined with scarring and fat. He hated it. The only people in years he made the decision to show his vulnerability were the supreme leader, his grandfather, and, in a moment of weakness, his father. And… her. On reflex, Kylo touched his cheek and scowled. He had made a mistake, trusting her. He would not be doing that again.

 

Kylo made it to his rooms without incident. The welcome sight of his all-black ensemble of furniture was a sheer relief and direct contrast to the clinical white of the medical bay. He sat down in the chair in front of his grandfather’s helmet, discomfited by how his rear and hips were squashed by the squared-off sides. The elastic scar tissue on his side felt particularly uncomfortable being bunched up within rolls. Kylo dug his fist into the spot, biting his lip as he felt just how much give there was.

 

After a moment spent shifting his weight, Kylo heard a harsh ripping noise. The buttons held up under the pressure of containing his stomach, but the cloth had not. A large tear provided a place for a pale slice of his stomach to bulge out. Kylo ripped the shirt the rest of the way open, sending buttons flying across the room. He sat back in the chair, his freed middle coming to rest on his lap to match the way his pectorals sagged against the top of his gut. He wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to squish them down. It did not help.

 

For once, Kylo hoped that his grandfather was not watching over him.

 

He hung his head and shut his eyes so he would not have to look at the vacuous pits of Vader’s helmet. Shame surged up from his endless well. How was he meant to control the galaxy if he could not even control himself?

 

Kylo stayed like that for a while until he slipped into a semi-meditative state, followed eventually by sleep. While he slept, he dreamed. In those dreams, much to his chagrin and excitement, he saw _her_.

 

Rey had always been there, in the back of his mind; a hot coal that exuded light to hide the darkness at its center. Seeing her manifested as a physical form, though, that was new. In a forest of washed out colors, Rey’s tan skin and a blue ensemble of clothing stood out right in front of Kylo, her back facing him. On impulse, Kylo reached out a hand toward her shoulder and opened his mouth, planning to—what? Call out to her? Threaten her? Swear his revenge? Beg her to see him as something other than a monster?

 

He did not think that far. Not that it mattered. The moment he reached out he caught sight of the pale meat of his fingers and forearm, he reconsidered.

 

She could not see him like this, not even in his dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo and Rey fight. It goes about as well as one might expect.

Kylo took a step back, trying to escape the scavenger’s notice. The heaviness of his step combined with the undergrowth on the forest floor gave him away. Rey turned without delay, Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber flaring to life in her hands, but then she stopped cold.

 

As they stared at each other, the forest shifted from greenish hues to grayish white and back again.

 

Rey’s lips parted. Her eyes were first drawn to his scar. Kylo knew that the treatment had done wonders in terms of clean-up, but the scar still looked horrific due in no small part to the messy, uneven way that Rey had slashed him. He could deal with her looking at that.

 

But then she looked at the rest. Kylo was hyper-aware of every pocket of fat, every jagged stretch mark. He had hunched over in an attempt to disguise his size from Rey, but it was a vain effort and an unnatural position for him. He rolled his shoulders back and stood up straighter, putting his heavy middle, hanging between the ragged curtains of his torn shirt, in full view. His shadow swallowed Rey when he straightened, the glow of her lightsaber the only thing keeping her from being overwhelmed by the darkness. As Kylo looked into Rey’s face and her presence in the Force, she seemed confused and troubled, more than anything, not the unending disgust that he expected.

 

Rey spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “Did the First Order do this to you?”

 

There was an unsaid _as punishment for your failure_ part of the question, at least to Kylo’s ears.

 

“Is that concern I hear, scavenger?” His parents’ penchants for sarcasm oozed from his voice and it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

 

“You wish,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “I’m only asking out of curiosity.”

 

Her accent became more pronounced and posh when she got angry. Kylo privately adored it. He would have to rile her more often. Not that it was hard to do.

 

“You incapacitated me for a long time,” Kylo said. “I didn’t cope well.”

 

Rey stared at him with a frown and her eyebrows drawn together, the lightsaber’s quiet hum the only response. Not a sufficient enough answer for her, then.

 

“I was upset—” _and lonely and resentful and miserable and looking to fill myself up with something to substitute for emotional care in addition to medical and I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you trash, you scum, you strong, beautiful, damaged girl, and I was SO ANGRY_ “—and bored. So I ate.”

 

And ate, and ate, and _ate_.

 

It occurred to him to wonder how foreign the concept of emotional eating might be to someone who lived on Jakku. Had she ever even seen a grossly overweight human rather than an alien before? As if in reflection of that thought, he could feel Rey’s bewilderment made tangible in the Force. The lightsaber blade all but touched the ground.

 

Kylo exhaled through his nose, shrugged off the remnants of his useless shirt, and drew his own lightsaber. He was wasting time talking—based on how she still had not sheathed her weapon, she seemed keener on fighting. Or she was too afraid to face him without her weapon to defend her. He smirked a little at that self-congratulatory idea, the scar tissue twinging a bit at the expression. Rey readied herself for an attack and glared at him, gathering, no doubt, that he was smiling at her expense.

 

Kylo realized within the first few seconds of the fight that it was not one he could win through his usual sheer strength and skill. His lightsaber style allowed for heavy steps and heavier swings, yes, but also required agility for arm, wrist, and full-body spins. None of which he could pull off with any semblance of speed while he trudged around like he was half-drunk with the inability to lift his lightsaber very far. He was reduced to hacking at her inelegantly.

 

Rey danced around him with ease, her small body and nimbleness allowing her a big advantage. However, she did not go for killing blows as she had on Starkiller. Her rage was more potent, then, Kylo realized. It was fueled by the recent death of Han Solo, and the near-death of her traitorous friend.

 

He tucked that information away, as he did not want her to attempt to kill him at this moment. It was not a good idea to chance Force visions translating into realities. If he did not get ahold of himself, though, she might just get tired of ignoring the obvious openings in his defense and kill him anyway.

 

Kylo sweated and panted with the effort of trying to keep up with her. Even his anger, what he based most of his energy on, had burned out. He felt as though he were about to collapse, a sensation he was entirely unused to and did not like one bit.

 

Ironic, given that when he did finally collapse it worked to his advantage.

 

He got in a saber lock with Rey, leaning into it in an attempt to slip his lightsaber over her guard, when at once both of them realized that he had leaned too far forward while Rey leaned too far back. The look of shock registered on both of their faces at the same time before Rey was bowled backwards followed by Kylo. They both dropped their sabers in an effort to catch themselves, the weapons deactivating with hisses.

 

Kylo managed to plant his hands and knees at Rey’s sides. His relief at how he managed to not crush her became tempered somewhat by the realization that his stomach draped over her, pinning her torso, the tops of her legs, and one arm down.

 

“Oy! Let me up!” Rey put her unpinned hand on one side of his chest and pushed.

 

Kylo might have considered it, then made a jeering response, but he was distracted. Kylo could not have imagined this would be how Rey first touched him, skin to skin rather than glove to skin or, the far worse of his two instances of having contact with her, lightsaber to skin. Even so, his mortal enemy’s hand cupping his breast did not feel unpleasant and that made it so much worse.

 

Rey’s bony, sunburned hand looked lost on the heaving mound of pale flesh. Kylo liked the look and feel of her touching him. Rey did not seem too opposed to the idea, either. Her eyes went round and her fingers sank a little further into the malleable meat of his breast. Kylo could not swallow his moan as her callous-roughened palm brushed against his nipple. He squirmed, shifting the bulk of his body back and forth against her.

 

This was not at all how this was supposed to go.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Force users get premonitions in their dreams. Kylo's aren't nearly as deep.

Kylo Ren had not been demonstratively touched by someone else in years. He had not even touched himself at all during his recovery. And here came the girl he was infatuated with, touching him on a part of his body made tender by the strain of being forced to accommodate so much weight all at once.

 

And what’s more, she did not stop.

 

Rey started out just fondling the bulk of Kylo’s torso with her fingers, looking at him with the same investigative expression he fancied she wore when scrutinizing the ancient starships she took apart. How many pieces would he be in by the end of this?

 

She ran her blunt nails over him, causing him to shudder as she hit upon the stretched out portions of skin. Kylo shut his eyes, sighing between his teeth. Trust her to be the one who found sweet spots even he did not know he had.

 

With his eyes shut and the ever-changing world of the dream blocked out, he could almost forget its unreality so he could focus on the seeming authenticity of Rey and her touches. He made an effort not to grind against her too much for fear of crushing her bones to powder under his weight.

 

A turning point came when Rey’s hand lingered on the pitted, elastic skin where he had been hit in the side by the bowcaster. Her fingers drew away at first, then came back to slowly, agonizingly spread her small hand over some fraction of the large scar made larger by his rapid weight gain. Even healed over, it was tender, far more sensitive than the stretchmarks she teased before. Kylo made a noise between a whimper and a growl, then bit down on his lower lip. Rey let go straight away. Kylo’s eyes shot open.

 

“Keep going.” Kylo meant for it to sound like a command, but it was far too weak and trembly and reeking of Ben Solo; what he wouldn’t do to have his mask to disguise his voice. “Keep touching me.”

 

She wavered, quirking an eyebrow.

 

“Please.”

 

Did he really just say that? He, Kylo Ren? ‘Please’? This was not right. He had her pinned to the ground. He should have had her be the one begging. And yet, there he was. Doomed to lose to her no matter how far the odds were in his favor.

 

“If I do,” Rey said, jutting her chin in the air, “you will let me go.”

 

Kylo sneered. In this, at least, he still had some power.

 

“You are in no position to bargain.”

 

Rey gave him a look. Then she let her hand drop to the forest floor.

 

In turn, one of Kylo’s hands curled into a fist and he proceeded to bash repeatedly it on the floor. The texture of the surface of the dreamscape changed with every hit. Insolent girl. How like her to give him a taste of pleasure before snatching it away. Rey seemed unaffected by his display for the most part, but he could feel her breath hitch from where her chest was pressed to his belly.

 

“Fine,” Kylo said. “Touch me until I’m satisfied and I’ll let you go.”

 

If the supreme leader could see him now. Negotiating for the privilege to have his bitter rival do him sexual favors instead of stealing valuable secrets from her mind about the Resistance or converting her to the dark side. All while he was in the worst shape of his life.

 

Rey jerked the shoulder attached to the arm still pinned underneath him, a clear indication that she would be better suited to her task with it unrestricted. Kylo felt a spike of vexation but relented, shifting to allow her to pull her arm free. No sooner had he done so before Rey was on him, caressing and gripping in turns at his chest, hips, and the spillover of his stomach.

 

Kylo all but melted, only just possessing the logic not to lay down on top of Rey in an effort to be closer to her. He bit down on his lower lip to keep the worst of his pleased noises from leaving his mouth. He could not help but rut against one of her bony legs whenever the opportunity presented itself.

 

Rey stared up at him all the while, unsmiling but with definite interest. Kylo imagined she enjoyed having him squirm under her touch more than she let on. Not that it mattered. This was a dream, a tasteless trick of the Force, after all. Rey would never deign to touch him in reality. Even with this taken into account, he wished he had a dream like this before he ruined his body. She seemed to have a trend of seeing him at his worst.

 

In the end, Kylo did not end up getting a chance to get the satisfaction he so desired from Rey. Not for lack of her trying or him deciding she had not met expectations, but rather that he woke up.

 

More specifically, he woke at the sound of someone requesting entrance to his quarters. Kylo spat a curse as he leapt from his chair and almost knocked over his altar to his grandfather. He spent a second taking inventory: his shirt was torn open with no hope of fixing it, he panted as though he had just escaped death instead of a wet dream, and he had an erection that was near-painful. All in all, he was in no condition to see anyone, but it was not as though he could just hide like a coward.

 

Kylo took off the shredded shirt, kept the pants he had filched from the medbay, and put on a once-loose tunic that clung to him with suffocating tightness that highlighted every roll of fat packed into it as well as the way his thick upper arms bulged out of its constraints. There was no point in even attempting to put on one of his belts. At the very least, the garment served to cover his crotch. Struggling into boots made him feel better about his bare hands and arms. Lastly, he put on one of the new helmets he had ordered be custom made and delivered to his quarters during his hospitalization. It felt right to cover his face again, even if his cheeks were squished more than a little.

 

Ready as he could be in such a short span of time, Kylo approached the door.

 

“What is it?” He growled the moment he opened it, hoping his intimidation would compensate for the fact that he looked like a disaster.

 

The lieutenant at the door, meanwhile, looked like he was about to have a stroke at the sight of him. “L-lord Ren?”

 

“I don’t recall asking what my name is. Let me reiterate: what is it?”

 

After a moment more spent gawking, during which Kylo had to restrain himself from eviscerating him, he said, “After your... ah... departure from the medbay, General Hux assumed that you were ready to be put back in action. You did not reply to any messages to your comlink, so I was sent to deliver the message directly. In case you were, er, deep in meditation or some such thing. Sir.”

 

Having a dream about his rival feeling him up probably fell into the category of “some such thing”.

 

“Tell the general that I am not yet recovered. He should not be so quick to assume.” He would have to delay Hux’s wish to kick him off of the _Finalizer_ to go on any missions until he managed to get his weight under control.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

He looked miserable at the prospect of having to deliver that news, but Kylo couldn't care less. Business taken care of, the lieutenant turned to leave.

 

“And lieutenant…”

 

He turned back. Kylo grabbed him by the neck. He pulled him in close until he could see the chromium on his helmet reflected in the man’s eyes.

 

“If you tell anyone about what you’ve seen, I’ll know, and your ashes will be the next that I add to my collection.”

 

The lieutenant nodded rapidly and Kylo let him go after giving his throat a squeeze. That extra bit of pain was less out of concern that he would tell anyone about how Kylo looked and more for interrupting his dream about Rey. It did not make Kylo feel much better.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo gives in to carnal pleasures.

Kylo ripped off his helmet the moment he got back into his room so that he could breathe properly; it had almost inadvertently strangled his thick neck while he was in the process of purposely strangling the officer. He turned it over in his hands, catching sight of a distorted view of his face in the visor and its chromium decoration. Before he could think about it for too long, he tossed it away and concerned himself with the immediate, resolvable problem of his erection over the neigh unsolvable problems going on with his ugly, ugly face.

 

He took off his clothes, piece by piece freeing himself from the clingy fabric that made him feel even larger than he actually was. His dick had been kept stimulated by his stomach continually rubbing against it, the sensation exacerbated with no layers of cloth separating the stiffness of his dick from the softness of his belly.

 

The latter of which chose to tell him with an agonizing rumble that he was hungry the moment he collapsed on top of his bed to masturbate. After Kylo sank his fingernails into his gut in a bout of frustration, he ordered his service droids to bring him three times more food than he would have ever considered eating before his hospitalization. He pushed hard across the bulk of his middle with the palm of his hand, compressing his insides and stopping the growling. Then he lifted his gut out of the way, cushioned in the crook of his arm. Finally, he spat on his free hand, wrapped his fingers around his dick, and allowed himself to think about Rey again as he set a pace of stroking himself.

 

The Force allowed him to be a bit more acquainted than the average person with unreality, so he soon lost himself in a daydream supplemented by a sensory illusion he conjured of Rey. His daydream Rey was even more farfetched than his dream Rey. For one thing, she was naked. It would not be fair otherwise. And, rather than touching him as if she was seeking out weaknesses, chinks in his armor, she did so with the same reverence and admiration he would afford her if she gave him a chance.

 

Rey lay on her front horizontally and partway on top of Kylo’s stomach, her breasts pressed to his bowcaster scar. She used her mouth to kiss and lick and bite him on the tender areas on his torso that she had mapped out with her fingers in his dream. She insulted and complimented him in turns. Kylo’s dick throbbed at both.

 

He let go of his dick when he got too close to the edge, leaving it pulsing hotly against his thigh as he favored cupping one of his—reluctant as he was to name them as such—breasts. The alien fatty softness to his chest was tempered somewhat by the pleasant sensation of teasing a widened nipple. Rey took notice and started teasing his chest for him. Kylo all but purred.

 

He made sure to have her stay away from his dick. He wanted the actual Rey, not his conception of her, to be the one who first made a concentrated effort to touch him there. The illusion was convincing in looks, maybe, but it could only act as far as his thoughts allowed. He could not think clearly enough to make it speak very much while he was in the midst of jerking off, for example.

 

Besides, if— _when_ he fucked Rey, the sensation of her mouth, her hands, and her cunt on his dick would be entirely novel and special. At that point he would surely have shed his weight and not have to worry about his fantasies of her touching him when he was ungodly fat.

 

Following that train of thought, Kylo felt a twinge in the back of his mind. He might have investigated it, but the service droids had returned with the food he had ordered. His stomach growled with renewed vigor. He had them leave it all on the edge of his bed, right next to where he maintained his illusion of Rey.

 

His hunger rivaled his arousal, then ended up winning out. He shoveled food into his mouth quickly enough that he did not stop to register what any of it was. To him, there were only rich textures and tastes that slid over his palate for a brief instant before they fulfilled their purpose of being swallowed and filling the vacuous pit of his stomach.

 

Rey rubbed his middle, smiling at Kylo. His grip on the illusion almost slipped at the fancifulness of that idea. Then her smile darkened and she punched him, causing his innards to lurch. Much better.

 

Kylo ate everything in short order, leaving him very, very sick but also pleased with his indulgence. Rey, accordingly, hugged his flushed stomach. He rubbed his wrist across his mouth to wipe away any excess sauce and crumbs. Air wheezed in and out between his lips as he tried to deal with the strain that being so full put on his lungs. One thing was for sure—he was not hungry anymore.

 

With one hand on his swollen belly, Kylo reached down between his legs to satisfy his other need. He came after only a few strokes. Hot cum dripped down the curve of his belly. Muzzy, post-orgasmic pleasure offset the pain that came with being stuffed to the brim. He lay back on his pillows, eyes shut. For a moment, he let himself be overtaken by the carnality, reasoning that he could be disgusted with himself later.

 

Kylo’s gratification left him at the distinct feeling that he was being watched. Not by the illusion; she had dissipated the moment his concentration broke when he came. At first, he thought that perhaps one of his service droids had returned for whatever reason, but they were nowhere to be found. Then he realized with a heave of his full stomach that the sensation was coming from within his own mind. The moment he realized it, the sensation left, quick as a blink. It had been the presence he sensed all along but had been loath to pay attention to.

 

He swallowed the globule of vomit that rose in his throat.

 

Rey—the real Rey, Kylo was sure—had not left his mind quickly enough for him not to recognize her presence in the Force.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo reflects on Rey's strange attraction.

Kylo’s first instinct was to get angry, of course. How dare she? How dare she have the gall to show up in his mind and see him at his most vulnerable? How had she even gone about doing that?

 

In the midst of his anger, his diaphragm contracted and he hiccupped. Kylo clapped a hand over his mouth, his face burning with mortification, but it did nothing to stop him from hiccupping again. He shut his eyes. If there had ever been a moment he felt less like a terrifying force to be reckoned with, it was then.

 

His hiccups ended up being dispelled with a few slaps to his unscarred side and a hard belch. It did nothing to cure his anger, however.

 

He would have gotten up and destroyed his room, but he felt too nauseous from his stint of overeating to even consider getting out of bed. So he lay there, stewing, his semen cooling on his sore belly. At some point he conceded to rubbing the second in an attempt to soothe his indigestion, first with one hand, then with both. Despite the crushing discomfort with the bulk and weight of the amount of food he had just eaten, Kylo found that he enjoyed the contrast of his hard gut to the plushy rolls of flesh gathered at his hips. He felt sick all over again at the thought.

 

Did he like being like this? He dared not consider it. More importantly, did Rey like it?

 

The lack of Rey’s presence in his head made it feel like there was a bloody tear even though there had never been one there before. Perhaps she ripped her way out.

 

The sensation when she had been there felt similar to when his uncle had watched over him through their training bond when he was a padawan. The thought of having made such a connection with her thrilled Kylo. He took a moment to thank the Force that he was not still bonded with his uncle, though. If there were anyone worse than Rey as a candidate for seeing him in an uncompromising position while he was twice his usual size and masturbating, it was Luke Skywalker. His mother came as a close second. His father… his father was no longer part of the equation.

 

Kylo swallowed hard at the sudden low his thoughts had turned to. In an attempt to bring himself out of it, he reflected further about Rey. He had thought that his dream was an illusion his mind had conjured like his daydream. However, she was far too articulate and her fighting style had improved since he last saw her in ways he could not have predicted. It could only mean that that had really been her then, too. But that was ridiculous.

 

The way she had touched him and looked at him was equal parts arousing and confusing. He could not remember anyone ever treating him that way. Why would she do that then and not before? Did she just really like handling someone covered in gross, doughy fat?

 

He thought back to how fervently she teased him. Playing with his love handles, his stomach, his breasts… maybe she did prefer him this way.

 

It had to be because of how weak and soft it made him, Kylo reasoned. She wanted to take advantage.

 

Right?

 

If he really wanted to, he could find out. Force bonds were not a one-way connection. He would find out, he told himself. The ashamed, scared part of his mind was shut up right next to the remnants of Ben Solo.

 

Kylo sucked in a breath, then relaxed, taking up a meditation position. He straightened his back despite the twinges in his stomach that came with moving to sit upright and the semen he smeared on his thigh with it. He shut his eyes and concentrated on the painful spot in his head that Rey had occupied, letting a surge of the Force flow toward it.

 

The effect was more instantaneous than he expected. One moment he had a distinct sense of self, then he was intermingling with a whirl of thoughts and sensations that he did not recognize as his own. Rey. She had a lot of feelings at war with each other, but Kylo found himself drawn to one in particular: arousal.

 

Arousal? Over _him_?

 

And, yes, she was certainly thinking about him. His name and half-formed images of him ricocheted off of the interior of her mind.

 

Kylo opened his eyes to find that he was not looking at his room, but the room Rey occupied. Rey was in a small, dimly lit one-room structure, laying on top of a mat of woven reeds with a single deflated-looking pillow. A bit of indignation flared in Kylo. She deserved so much better after years of living as a desert rat. She needed featherbeds, and a dozen pillows, and—

 

An image of Rey sleeping curled up on top of his cushiony torso came to Kylo and he could not for the life of him figure out whether it had come from him or her.

 

Either way, he steered away from the pleasant image in favor of trying to sort out what else Rey was thinking. Everything was muddled with that thrill of arousal, but she seemed to be fighting it. She had been in the process of sorting through the few possessions in her bag and taking off some of her outerwear, presumably in preparation for going to sleep. She kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, squeezing them together at the thigh. She let one of her hands wander to her concave lower belly, only to tense and draw it back.

 

He could feel her mounting frustration along with her excitement.

 

Kylo felt it only fair that he witness her masturbating after she watched him, intentional or not. He willed more suggestions of himself into her head. He had no idea whether or not it would work, but it stimulated his ego to think so.

 

Images of his swollen stomach rolling and jiggling with each step. The softness that came with touching his huge thighs. The obscene, greedy noises he made when he ate too quickly. He pressed all of that and more to her subconscious.

 

Kylo knew he was either enticing Rey or driving her away forever with this display. Based on the way her breath caught in her throat and how she finally allowed herself to spread her legs to press a hand to her swollen cunt through her undergarment, he dared to hope it was the former.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo uses the Force very, very inappropriately in the name of enticing Rey.

Rey slid the tips of her pointer and middle finger from the bottom to the top of her cunt through the fabric. She looked down, giving Kylo a view of her erect nipples through her shirt and a bit of her pubic hair when she started to pull her underwear off.

 

If he concentrated enough, Kylo could feel the throbbing pulse of blood in her labia and clit as well as the warm wetness inside of her. The sensations felt at once deliciously overstimulating in light of how he had just orgasmed a short while ago but also very bizarre given that he felt sensations from body parts that he did not possess. He turned his attention to the heat clenching in her stomach and her shortness of breath. He could sympathize with that more than he could her pussy.

 

A shame she was taking so long to unveil it, Kylo thought unguardedly. He was sure she had a very pretty pussy. Rey’s head snapped up and her hand drew away. Kylo cursed himself. There was silence for a moment during which Kylo contemplated withdrawing but could not bring himself to.

 

“Who’s there?” Rey asked aloud to the empty room, turning toward the door and reaching for where her staff leaned against one wall.

 

Kylo made a concentrated thought to speak through their bond: “Don’t stop on my account.”

 

Rey directed her hand away from the staff to grab the pillow and hold it to her torso like a shield. Heat spread to her cheeks to compliment the heat still very much present in her groin.

 

“Go away, you beast.”

 

Okay, now she was just being unreasonable.

 

Kylo imagined being on his knees on the mat, pressing up against her from behind, his belly fitting against the inward curve of her lower back. Rey inhaled and tensed at the sensation. He ghosted an illusion of his knuckles across one of her protruding shoulder blades. Her head jerked and she looked behind her, but there was nothing to see.

 

“You don’t want me to leave,” Kylo hummed with a lot more confidence than he felt. “You want to play with yourself while I watch.”

 

“Pervert,” Rey accused venomously even as she leaned back against the illusion of his soft middle.

 

“Takes one to know one. Or did you forget what it was you did just a few minutes ago?” He pressed the memory of her invading his mind to watch him masturbating.

 

Rey pulled the pillow up to cover her face. “It was an accident.”

 

“Accident?”

 

Rey pressed her face against the pillow as if she wanted to smother herself. When she spoke, it was a muddled mess of embarrassment and anger with him and herself. Her Coruscanti accent and the pillow muffling the sounds did not help, either.

 

Kylo managed to make out her words by putting them accordingly with the thoughts behind them:

 

“I was trying to meditate when I had a vision of you. Except you were different than before. You were big and soft. You didn’t have the robes or a mask to hide behind. Even when we were fighting, you didn’t seem so…”

 

“Monstrous?”

 

“But you’re still the same inside. You’re still monstrous and vile. I hate you,” Rey insisted, lowering the pillow a fraction, “even if you are cuddly.”

 

The comment about hating him hurt a little even if there was no real bite to it. It was offset somewhat by the follow-up comment about him being cuddly.

 

Even so, Kylo’s tone was a bit gruffer when he said, “I wasn’t exactly cuddly while I fantasized about you.”

 

“No, you were—” the words _erotic_ and _tempting_ formed in Rey’s head, but she settled on “—depraved.”

 

That stung.

 

“If I’m depraved, what exactly does that make you?” Kylo growled. “You were about to rub one off while you thought about me. _Me,_ Kylo Ren. In fact, you still want to.”

 

Kylo forced thoughts about the reminiscent heat and tingling of Rey’s arousal to the front of her mind. Rey moaned and squirmed, pressing the pillow between her legs.

 

“You want to sink your bony little scavenger fingers into every bit of my soft, velvety flesh, don't you?”

 

Kylo could feel his confidence swelling as her self-control weakened. His insecurity over his weight all but disappeared, at least temporarily, at the prospect of being able to use it to hold influence over Rey.

 

“R’iia,” Rey hissed through her teeth as she tossed the pillow away.

 

He lowered his mental voice as she struggled to pull her underwear off. “That’s right. Touch yourself for me.”

 

Rey could no longer articulate much beyond whispered curses and keening noises as she sank two fingers from her left hand inside of her cunt and used her right hand to smear juices over her clit with her middle finger. His continual presence and teasing made her more than wet enough to be rough and frenzied with herself. Kylo relished in it all.

 

“Tell me again who the pervert is.”

 

“Kriff you,” Rey said, shuddering as she hit upon a sweet spot.

 

“You know how I know that you’re a filthy, filthy pervert, Rey? I don’t have to read your mind for it.” The illusion of Kylo’s presence leaned heavily against Rey’s back. “I can see it in the way you’re sopping wet over your fat, miserable enemy.”

 

Rey came with a choked moan. Kylo felt every tense muscle in her body twitching as her walls convulsed around her fingers and her thoughts temporarily blinked out of focus altogether. She collapsed on her side, panting hard.

 

Satisfaction roiled through Kylo. He had never felt more powerful around her than he did right then. And to think, it was when he was physically at his weakest that he had been able to get her to do what he wanted. Somehow he doubted that dirty talking would get her to turn to the dark side, but he could deal with that as it came.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo finds out where Rey is hiding and it is only a matter of getting authorization to go find her.

During a few moments after Rey came, Kylo found that her mind had become completely unguarded. He hesitated for only a moment before plucking out the information he had been seeking for quite some time.

 

Ahch-To. The planet that Luke Skywalker and Rey hid on was Ahch-To.

 

Her mind was so relaxed and open that she registered none of the pain that had come when she fought him over the map in the interrogation room. If only all of his mind reading was so easy.

 

The feeling of knowing where his uncle hid ended up being more anticlimactic than he had imagined. It probably had something to do with how he did not immediately care so much about killing Luke Skywalker, but rather swaying Rey to join him. It would most certainly be her that he looked forward to seeing when he arrived on Ahch-To.

 

More than seeing. Taking her, ravishing her, worshipping her, and being worshipped by her. Sensuous pleasure diffused through Kylo’s mind. He fought to keep it from spilling over into Rey’s awareness.

 

Rey, meanwhile, recovered and retrieved the pillow so that she could curl her body around it. She was uncharacteristically quiet. Was she ashamed of having given in to him, if only in mind? Or had finally it dawned on her that the body that came with his mind was wholly unappealing? Either way, he did not want to leave her upset with him.

 

Kylo lingered on the edges of her consciousness in an attempt to catch stray thoughts and emotions. She gave nothing more away. Kylo fought with his instinctive need to shove his way into her private thoughts.

 

Instead, he brushed the suggestion of his lips across hers in what he hoped was a nice gesture. It marked the first time he had ever used the Force to make an illusion for something as innocent as a chaste kiss. He felt self-conscious after he did it and left Rey before he could register her response.

 

Kylo’s cognizant mind returned to his body to find it a little less sick than when he had left it. His stomach had calmed from being stretched and roiling to just full and heavy. Even so, he was still covered with sweat and some semen, though, so he dragged himself out of bed to go clean himself off in the ’fresher.

 

Without any of the medbay's nurses to attend him, Kylo was forced to scrub himself clean and thus feel portions of his body he had long avoided. The spread of his thighs was even larger across than the generous estimation he had projected at Rey, for instance. Glistening with soap, the pockets of fat on his torso looked especially huge. And his face--

 

His hand shied away and he resolved not to examine himself too closely from then on out.

 

Afterward, he knew that in order to leave the ship and go to Ahch-To he would have to do something very unpleasant. In preparation, he dressed himself as comfortably as he could in his too-tight robes, sans the belt, and donned his helmet. Then he set off to find the most isolated corridor onboard the _Finalizer_ and knocked out all of the lights, scaring away any patrolling stormtroopers with some shouting and a few slashes to the walls for good measure. Finally, he used his comlink to contact the only one who could give him clearance to leave the ship aside from the supreme leader himself.

 

General Armitage Hux looked about the same as he always did. That is to say, stern, pallid, and like he had not slept for weeks. While he did not top the list of Kylo Ren’s least favorite people—Luke Skywalker had that honor—he was most certainly up there. Nevertheless, Kylo needed his clearance to leave the _Finalizer_ without repercussions.

 

Kylo knew that it would not be a simple matter of letting him go over the comlink. No, Hux had to make the encounter as painful and personal as possible in an attempt to get dirt on him to use the next time they spoke with Snoke. He was willing to leave the bridge to meet with him for that opportunity alone.

 

"I could do without the theatrics, Ren," Hux said when he arrived in the hall, squinting into the darkness. "If this is an attempt to strike terror into my heart as you have done with the petty officers, you will have to try a little harder."

 

Kylo stayed as far back in the darkness as he could. "As if I need to reduce myself to such methods to frighten you. No, I only require that you give me independent leave from the _Finalizer_. Immediately."

 

Hux scoffed. “On what grounds? You weren’t available for a mission only an hour ago.”

 

“I…”

 

He had not thought of an excuse. It was not as if he could say the supreme leader wanted to send him on some sort of solo mission; Hux could fact-check that with him at once. As he deliberated, Hux became exasperated.

 

He rubbed his temples and exhaled. “Did you have any real reason to call me here?”

 

Hux’s thoughts all but projected at Kylo an additional question: _Did your sad, troglodytic brain just tell you to bother me in an attempt to cure your loneliness?_

 

For once without a quip in light of his desperation, Kylo replied lamely, “I do have a reason.”

 

“Do be sure to tell me what it is when it occurs to you.” Hux’s voice was crisp and authoritative but nonetheless tinged with annoyance.

 

Kylo might have felt chastened if he had any respect whatsoever for him. He did not, so he felt annoyed right back.

 

Hux turned to storm off with a flourish of his greatcoat. Kylo considered letting him go. Maybe it would be better to just suffer Snoke’s wrath once he got back from his presumed future fling with his rival. But then there was the possibility of his ship being tracked to Ahch-To when he left without clearance. He would be putting Rey at stake.

 

That tore it.

 

With a sharp yank of the Force, Kylo dragged Hux into the shadows with him. The general let out a strangled noise despite Kylo’s lack of focus on his neck. Perhaps on a subconscious level Kylo had put a bit too much pressure there. What a shame.

 

Hux ended up tripping over himself and falling back when Kylo let go of his influence over his body. As much as Kylo would have loved to watch the uptight prick fall on his ass, that did not occur. No, his fall’s trajectory had him on a direct collision course with Kylo’s stomach. Hux’s back crashed against it, reigniting his stomachache and causing Kylo to end up with a bit of bile in his mouth. Wonderful.

 

There was not nearly enough push from Hux’s slight body to put Kylo off-balance. However, there was, without a doubt, more than enough for him to get a feel for just how large the master of the Knights of Ren had become.

 

A gloved hand reached back and alighted on one of the sagging rolls on Kylo’s side. Hux gave the flab a rough pinch between forefinger and thumb as if to confirm its existence in the darkness. It hurt, and not in the way that Kylo liked. He responded accordingly.

 

“I could break every bone in your hand with a thought."

 

He could not, as he lacked the finesse, but it made for a convincing threat. Hux took the hint, removing his hand and stepping away.

 

While he could no longer see him, Kylo could picture Hux shaking his head and putting his wandering hands behind his back as he asked, “Ren, what have you bloody done to yourself?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo loses his patience with Hux, then practices some self-love for Rey's sake.

A vein pulsed in Kylo’s cheek. This was exactly the sort of confrontation he had wanted to avoid.

 

“My body’s current state is irrelevant.”

 

“Is it? I’m inclined to believe that having such a—” Hux paused. “—full figure will have some effect on your capabilities to fight and defend yourself on a solo mission.”

 

Loathe as he was to admit it, Hux was right. He hated when Hux was right. Then his choice of words set in.

 

“‘Full figure’?” He made it sound like he was trying to gently criticize an overfed Twi’lek courtesan.

 

“Fine, since you have such a thick skin, I’ll save my kinder euphemisms.” Hux’s voice took on a harder edge and he all but spat when he spoke. “Being a pfassking tub of lard is a hindrance and frankly it offends me that you would let this happen to you. Do you really think that you can go on the front lines like this? You are going to explain to me right now how you managed to ruin a good portion of your usefulness to the First Order and then you will go about fixing it.”

 

He punctuated his demand with a hard prod to Kylo’s stomach with his pointer finger. Kylo, in turn, reached out, grabbed him by the front of his stiff uniform, and slammed him up against a wall. He had been irate the moment Hux drew attention to his weight, but having him touch him again made him boil over entirely.

 

“You should know better than to upset me, general.” He shook him.

 

Hux’s hands flew to Kylo’s wrist. “How dare you? Unhand me at once! The supreme leader will hear of—”

 

“You will give me permission to leave the ship,” Kylo said, clamping down on Hux’s mind.

 

Hux was sharper than the average occupant onboard the _Finalizer_ and had the benefit of some basic training from Snoke on resisting mind tricks for this exact sort of situation. It made Kylo’s job more difficult than usual, but his anger helped him rip aside his defenses with little effort. The lack of Force sensitivity in opposition to him also helped.

 

Kylo repeated, “You will give me permission to leave the ship.”

 

“…I…” Hux struggled mentally and physically, then went limp. “I will give you permission to leave the ship.”

 

“You will remember nothing of this encounter save that you will give me permission to leave the ship.”

 

Hux echoed the order back and Kylo did a thorough sweep of his recent memory to be sure it had gone through. Then he let Hux down and left, regretting that he could not do more to make him pay for insulting him. Some other time, perhaps. At the moment the most important thing was his mind trick holding its influence.

 

Sure enough, after Kylo snuck aboard his shuttle, narrowly avoiding detection from the many stormtroopers in the hangar, he received clearance to leave. There was a twinge in the back of his mind that he could only assume was residual pain from the effort of manipulating Hux’s.

 

He went to sit in the pilot seat to go about making preparations to take flight. Sitting down ended up being a mistake. His wide rump and hips, crammed in close quarters in the chair in his bedroom, were all but crushed between the armrests of the seat. The sides of his belly spilled over both armrests, too; a huge, ever-present reminder of where most of his weight had gone.

 

Kylo spent a few minutes ignoring the situation with pointed deliberateness, waiting until he had set a course, left the hangar, and made the jump to lightspeed to pay any attention to his discomfort. He used the Force to bend the armrests outward to give more room to his middle and hindquarters. He heaved out a breath and slid down in his seat to get comfortable. Again, the use of the Force ignited pain in his head that he was not used to. Mind tricking Hux really took it out of him.

 

In reality, he recognized Rey’s presence from her Force signature before, but he did not want to let her know that, so he kept his thoughts off of her. That did not mean he could not give her a nice view.

 

He touched his gut with a motion that was in part a rough, self-deriding squeeze and in part an opportunity to rub it. His robes had been hiked up when he slid down in his seat, exposing a bit of his muffin top between the slits in the long tunic. He discovered his gloves felt nice against the stretched-out skin, causing him to let out pleased noises distorted by his vocoder when he hit upon the most sensitive parts. He was glad he put those on even if they looked strange next to his bare arms. Kylo had not bothered to even attempt to put on his armored gambeson—it would be like trying to put a heavy-duty, long-sleeved corset on his blubbery body. That is to say, ineffective, uncomfortable, and in all probability a ticket to passing out.

 

Kylo slid his thumb underneath one of the suspenders beneath his tunic that had been cutting into him with even more intensity than usual when he had sat down. He pulled it back, then let it go with a snap. The impact caused the flesh to wobble in a way that probably should have sickened him more than it did. At the moment, rather than insecure, he was simply… investigative. For Rey’s sake, of course.

 

He knew for a fact that Hux would be puking his guts out if he could see Kylo more or less playing with his fat. A bit of residual resentment rose in him as he contemplated what he had said. Pfassking tub of lard, indeed. It only made sense that a militaristic tool who prized order and utility would hate that an already chaotic knight had ruined his health, he supposed. Thinking about his reasoning did not make him hate him any less.

 

Then again, Rey, whose opinion of him he prized far more than Hux’s, seemed to be under the impression that he had been improved by the weight rather than ruined despite her practicality, didn’t she?

 

“Well? Don’t you?” He asked aloud to the empty cockpit.

 

There was silence and the presence in the back of his mind made as if to flee. Then:

 

“I—yes,” Rey admitted, her embarrassment at being caught spilling over from her thoughts.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey is very touchy-feely and distracting.

“You just can’t stay away, can you?” Kylo asked, his chuckle a deep, metallic rasp.

 

“I won’t be staying much longer unless you take that hideous mask off.”

 

Kylo scoffed, more out of principle than anything else, before obliging. He set the helmet down next to the seat, then straightened up. As embarrassed as he had been the first time Rey saw him playing with himself, the second time had the advantage in that he had known she was there from the beginning so he felt more poised.

 

That is, until she managed to surprise him again.

 

Something other than his hands crept up against his stomach. Small, feminine hands that wavered in their tangibility. Kylo inhaled sharply. Rey stopped, then seemed to gather up her courage. She squeezed the bunched-together rolls of fat exposed on his sides, lavishing attention on where the flesh swelled out the most. She tactfully avoided the oversensitive region where his scar tissue from the bowcaster wound was, having learned from experience it was too tender. Then her hands slid from his sides to his front, palming at the spillover of his expansive belly between the middlemost slit in his battle tunic.

 

For the second time in a short span, arousal began to gather and heat up in Kylo’s guts and blood rushed to his dick.

 

The confident way that Rey handled the Force despite her lack of extensive formal training charmed him. Creating sensory illusions was not the sort of thing Luke Skywalker would be instructing her about at this point in her training, if ever due to its dark nature. She could only have learned it through her brief stint with Kylo. Once he got over his surprise, he felt pleased. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, after all. It would not be the first time she copied and used his own tricks with the Force against him. Perhaps he had managed to be her teacher in some ways after all. He allowed that last thought to go unchecked and Rey seemed to catch on to it.

 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she huffed, raking the nails of one hand down his stomach. “I learned to do this all on my own, no teaching from you required.”

 

He could picture the way her fingernails would sink a bit into the pliant surface of his flesh if he shut his eyes. The rougher motion had Kylo’s belly tensing and sucking in an inch or so out of instinct. After a moment, he relaxed with a noise that was partway a derisive laugh and partway a sigh.

 

“Yes, I’m sure you learned this higher level Force technique with no influence from my side of our bond, young padawan.”

 

Rey scratched him with both hands. “I suppose you want me to call you _‘master’_.”

 

The sarcasm dripping from Rey’s voice did not discourage Kylo as she probably intended. If anything the lump in his far-too-tight pants swelled more at the mere idea of her referring to him that way. It took so little to set him off. Despite his torment of Rey over the idea, he had no doubt he was the far more depraved of the two of them.

 

Kylo shifted his hips, then bent the armrests of the pilot seat out further with a rough shove of the Force. He spread his legs. The press of his thick thighs on his groin was replaced by his belly sagging on top of it. However, the movement to get more comfortable was not without its consequences. The inseams on his denim pants, already stretched past their limit, creaked, then all at once broke open at mid-thigh. Leaning down to try to examine the damage only made them rip more, so he resolved to ignore it.

 

Rey made a noise that her feelings indicated were one of awe as her fingertips trailed down to where his flesh bulged out of the rips. Something that felt silky smooth pressed to the bared skin on one of his thighs. Lips. Or, at the very least, her attempt at a mental projection of lips. The mere idea of Rey’s head between Kylo’s legs had him fighting the urge to demand she try to maintain an illusion of sucking him off. He doubted she could manage it.

 

Besides, he felt shy at the idea of baring his dick to her just yet. Never mind that she had probably already gotten a pretty good view when she spied on him before.

 

Resisting touching himself there, though, that was the trick. Kylo’s hands wandered to his chest. He settled his wrists on the crest of his belly, then squeezed the soft meat of his breasts and thumbed at his nipples through his tunic to preoccupy himself. It did not compare to her touch, but he did not have her entire physical body there for him to caress instead. But, Kylo decided, touching his chest was a bad idea. It felt so good, far better than it had ever felt when he had firm, muscular pectorals and small, undefined areolas.

 

In some ways, maybe he was better—

 

Oh, stars, no. He would not consider it.

 

Rey. He was better for Rey, maybe, but no further.

 

Kylo folded his arms over his chest, scowling at himself, and refocused on her. That turned out to be an equally bad idea. She soon had him beginning to sweat and pant with her damned continual touches as if he were the most desirable thing she had ever laid her hands on instead of an enemy who had had a bad spell of binge eating. He had to wonder whether or not Rey was in-tune with him in the Force enough to feel how much she affected him when she touched him as he had been with her. He supposed not, as he kept most of his mind locked up tight since the last time she read it, only ever showing her concentrated tendrils of thought for his mind probe and suggestive images.

 

But in the interrogation room his head had been a maelstrom of emotion, predominantly fear in empathy with hers. And while those emotions were still there, they gave way to a smoother, more controlled flow of emotion with every moment she spent touching him. Instead of fear, at the moment Kylo felt only warmth and tenderness and a healthy dose of desire.

 

“Rey,” Kylo said in between heaving breaths, a bit hoarser than he had intended.

 

Rey responded with more than a little snark, but also with hoarseness of her own that betrayed her: “Kylo.”

 

Kylo’s tongue felt thick in his mouth. He wanted to let down all of his barriers and for her to do the same. The physical intimacy ought to match that of their mentality. For, as he had daydreamed about in his hospital bed, their minds to meld so that they were one as they fucked.

 

But that would require them to be together, wouldn’t it? Really together.

 

His erection and the illusion of her hands made it hard to think. Speaking of the latter, the fingers that had been continually kneading at his belly and thighs stilled, then left him altogether. It was probably for the better that she had her hands off of him so that he could think straight, but the sudden shift in contact and demeanor concerned him.

 

Before he could question her, Rey hissed, “Master Skywalker is coming. I’m supposed to be meditating.”

 

“What?” Kylo could think of no faster way to put a massive dent in his arousal than the thought of his uncle. “What are you still doing here, then?”

 

Kylo could have picked his words better. Rey took the sentiment to heart to the point that she left his mind the moment he said it, leaving him a big, fat, sweaty mess. He was also still panting and sporting an erection he no longer had his rival-turned-tentative-mind-sex-partner to worry about seeing too closely.

 

Kylo wanted—needed—to reach down between his massive thighs and touch himself. His characteristic selfishness bowed, however, at the idea of keeping his stamina up so that he would be able to satisfy Rey when the time came. He would be arriving at Ahch-To in a few hours, after all; orgasming twice in the space of such a short time would not be advisable. He anchored his hands to the armrests and squeezed them until his fingers hurt.

 

It was only after he had managed to calm down some that Kylo realized he had not told Rey of his plan to come to Ahch-To. Her fault for distracting him, he rationalized.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke is pretty easygoing about the entire state of affairs. Kylo and Rey pretend-fight anyway.

As Kylo’s shuttle entered Ahch-To’s atmosphere, he could feel Rey’s presence in the Force as he stretched out his senses. Unfortunately, he could also detect Luke Skywalker. Kylo scowled. The old man would do well to stay out of his way. This thought came to Kylo without much real consideration, as it was the way of things for him to be able to handle his uncle; he had done so once, hadn’t he? But that was before he had—

 

Kylo glanced down and shifted aside one half of his tunic to display the way his belly sagged on top of his thigh, the lowest curve reaching midway to his knees. It heaved as he sighed with irritation.

 

Would he be able to fight him? If he had barely held his own against Rey in their shared dream, then things did not bode well for Kylo. Perhaps his uncle would take one look at the blob of fat his nephew had become and feel so sorry for him he would not have the heart to destroy him in a lightsaber fight. Then again, Kylo doubted that Luke Skywalker had any compassion left in him for Kylo Ren in light of all of the destruction he had caused.

 

Kylo had not come this far just to lose his nerve, though, so he steeled himself. He was willing to risk taking a lightsaber to his huge gut if it meant a chance to be close to Rey. Strong, beautiful, clever Rey. Kylo made sure to leave his helmet behind since she so obviously hated it even if he felt naked without it. He did tuck as much of his belly into his pants and beneath his tunic the best he could, though. As much as she liked that part of him, he was not confident enough to expose himself that fully to his uncle.

 

When he landed on the patch of land amidst the vast ocean he perceived to be the one that Rey and Luke hid on, he was surprised to find them waiting for him side by side on some stairs near the base of some cliffs. One or both of them must have sensed his approach or otherwise seen his shuttle. Kylo was relieved that they had come down. He could tell just by looking at the first dozen or so steps that his heavy body would have been a mess of perspiration and death rattles by the time he hauled himself to the top.

 

Rey stared at Kylo with her mouth in a firm line as he walked off of his shuttle. He could tell through their bond she was surprised and upset that he had not told her he was coming more than anything else. There was also a thread of undeniable excitement. He shrugged one shoulder at her, allowing a tiny smirk, then turned his consideration to Luke.

 

The old Jedi knight was, much to Kylo’s vexation, unruffled by his presence, almost as if he did not perceive him as a threat. He could not disguise the slight quirk of his eyebrows as he took in the obvious fact that Kylo had become quite fat, though.

 

“Ben,” Luke greeted smoothly.

 

“Skywalker,” Kylo said, bristling at the use of his birth name. “I know you’re disgusted with me for what I’ve done, what I’ve become. There’s no need to hide it with a veneer of indifference.”

 

“I’d say that I’m more concerned than anything else,” Luke said. “That much weight can’t be good for your health.”

 

Kylo’s teeth set. That was not at all what he meant and it ruined his dramatic effect.

 

He muttered, “I’m well aware that I am not the picture of health at the moment.”

 

Keeping his temper in check was always a chore, but Kylo knew he had to try. He remembered how negotiations with Luke Skywalker worked. Though the man came off as completely placatory to his enemies, if one threatened or upset him enough he would demolish them in battle with ferocity that belied his initial composure. They had that much in common, he supposed, though Luke was far more in-control of his outbursts of emotion as befitting a Jedi.

 

“What is it you want, Ben?”

 

Kylo eyed Rey. She looked back and forth from Kylo to her master, one hand on the lightsaber at her hip, looking confused as to why a fight had not already broken out. Kylo had to smother a smile at her per usual eagerness to do battle with him even when they did not have to. It was when she made a prolonged few seconds of eye contact with Kylo that he finally mustered the courage to speak.

 

“Her.” He swiped his tongue across his upper lip. “I want her.”

 

Rey’s cheeks and neck turned a sweet shade of pink. Kylo could feel pleasure tingling in their bond. As much as he wanted to send her filthy images and sensations of exactly what he wanted to do with her, his uncle’s continual presence gave him pause.

 

She did not seem to have any such precaution. In his mind’s eye, Kylo suddenly saw her riding his dick, hands braced against his squishy middle, the softest parts of him surging back and forth with the force of her movements. Kylo’s breath caught in his throat. Naughty girl. And right in front of her master and his former master. He gave her the sensation of a slap on her pert little ass, relishing the way she jumped a bit and glared at him, huffy.

 

Kylo looked back at Luke. It would not do for him to catch on. Assuming he had not already.

 

He might very well have, but Luke only asked, “You want my student?”

 

“Yes.” Deeply. Intimately.

 

Before Luke could respond, Rey ignited Anakin Skywalker’s saber.

 

“Well, you can’t have me,” was Rey’s tart quip before she charged down the few steps and closed the distance between her and Kylo.

 

“Rey, no!” Luke warned right before Kylo drew his saber and they clashed.

 

“I can and will have you however I’d like,” Kylo said through their bond, arching an eyebrow at her as he parried her aggressive swipes.

 

“I had to at least pretend I still hate you. Which I do, I just…” Rey trailed off, then changed tact as she twisted her body away from his diagonal cut. “By the way, you look even bigger in person.”

 

Kylo glanced down at himself for a moment. The illusion that he seemed bigger than she perceived in their Force bond interactions may have been assisted by the fact that he had made the poor decision to wear his old clothes. Rey’s lightsaber swung dangerously close to his exposed flank.

 

“Pay attention, you self-conscious mess, Master Skywalker is still watching! We have to be convincing.”

 

Despite Rey’s warning, after he used his lightsaber to beat her a few steps back, he chanced a glance at his uncle. Luke indeed watched, arms folded, looking far too calm about the situation and making no move to help Rey.

 

Kylo wondered what the old man was up to, but Rey dragged his concentration back to her with a slash near his head made purposefully clumsy so as not to connect.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke ships it. Kylo and Rey start to get steamy.

At some point, Luke became sick and tired of their fighting.

 

“That’s enough, both of you.”

 

Rey and Kylo, who had been close due to a saber lock, were forced apart by a green blade emerging from beneath and splitting the X of their crossed lightsabers. Kylo eyed Luke with suspicion as he stumbled back, wondering how he had moved so fast to get between them. Then he decided it did not matter as he sucked in lungfuls of air to make up for how breathless he had become fighting Rey. His broad belly and chest ballooned with each breath, but he was beyond caring about how fat he looked at that point.

 

“Turn off your lightsabers,” Luke said, pointing to each of them in turn with the point of his own blade, “and drop them.”

 

Rey hesitated, then obeyed. Considering Kylo was not up for fighting in the first place, he was all too happy to oblige. Given how much he resented his uncle, though, he took his sweet time shutting his lightsaber off and reluctantly lowering it to the ground, sneering all the while.

 

Luke turned off his own lightsaber and hid it in the sleeve of his robe as he crossed his arms. “Rey. Ben. If you were trying to fool me into believing the two of you are still true-blue enemies, you’ve failed miserably. Anyone can see that you’re interested in each other and I, as a Force sensitive, can feel it. Particularly when you’re broadcasting your fantasies, Rey.”

 

Rey bit her lip, mortified.

 

Luke waved his prosthetic hand. “I blocked it out before it got too graphic, but I got the idea of what it is you’d like to do with my nephew. Not what I’d call the Jedi way, but… I think you’d be a good influence on him all-around, so I’ll allow it as long as you two practice safely.”

 

He gestured for both of them to come closer. Kylo approached with half the expectation he was going to turn and fulfill Kylo’s initial fear he would end up stabbed to death by his uncle. No such stabbing occurred, thankfully for him, and he was able to get closer to Rey outside of combat.

 

“Ben, you’re worse than both of your parents combined when it comes to aggressive seduction. Rey, be gentle with him. You can come on a bit strong, too. You two probably want to be alone for a bit. Talk things out.” Luke coughed into his fist, and Kylo had a sneaking suspicion it was to hide a smile. “The ship should do. Be back in a couple of standard hours; I’ll have dinner waiting.”

 

With that, the old Jedi turned and walked calmly toward the stairs.

 

“Did Master Skywalker just endorse us being together?” Rey asked, staring off after him as she called her lightsaber back to her hand with a concentrated pull of the Force.

 

It sounded like it, and that was good enough for Kylo. After retrieving his own lightsaber, he bent down, bracing one arm against the small of her back and the other behind her knees.

 

“What are you—oh!” Rey yelped and wriggled a bit as Kylo picked her up.

 

While the movement was nowhere near as fluid as when he had caught her on Takodana, Kylo was glad he could still pick her slight body up at all with his weakened right arm. He cushioned her against the topmost slope of his belly and his chest. Rey wrapped her arms around Kylo’s neck, turned her torso, and leaned in so that they were face to face.

 

Rey bumped their foreheads together for a moment. “A bit of warning would be nice. Cad.”

 

He snorted and patted her back reassuringly as he started to walk toward his shuttle, tearing his gaze from her face with great difficulty to watch his step once in a while. So close, Kylo could count the freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose. The last time their faces had been so close on Starkiller, things were not nearly as friendly. Rey seemed to be taking close stock of his face, too, with her main concern falling to the plain defect she had caused.

 

One of her arms untwined from around his neck so that she could frame her hand around the full curve of his cheek, pointer pressed into the deepest part of his scar while her thumb brushed his lips. She did not apologize, but he could feel her rueful feelings in the Force as she stroked his cheek and gave him a little kiss as they passed the threshold and boarded his shuttle.

 

Kylo, in turn, gave her apologetic feelings for… well, everything as he angled his mouth over hers and deep kissed her once they were inside. Rey seemed surprised but not unpleasantly so by the intrusion of his tongue, reaching up to frame his cheeks with both hands. She caressed the scar with her pointer as she entangled her own tongue with his for a bit, then sucked on his lower lip once he withdrew. Moaning, he hugged her more tightly to his chest and kissed her again.

 

Presently, they arrived at the cockpit. Kylo had landed so that it faced toward the ocean, so there was no chance of Luke being able to watch even if he had wanted to. They continued to kiss as he oriented himself in front of the pilot seat.

 

Kylo sat down, his belly forming a swell that served as a pillow for Rey to rest her weight on instead of his arm. The hand he had under her legs slid to one side to knead her tiny ass. Rey pulled her mouth away from his with a gasp and a wet sound as Kylo’s hand slid between her legs to cup her mound through her pants. His thick fingers covered the spread of her crotch and then some. He pressed his middle finger against the cloth to trace the line between her lips. There was only a minimal resistance from the cloth as Kylo rubbed, and he realized with a grin she was not wearing anything underneath her pants.

 

“Did you get rid of your underwear when you sensed me coming? Were you so sure I was dragging my enormous ass all the way here just so I could fuck your perverted little cunt?”

 

Rey nodded against where she had hidden her face adjacent to the give of his neck, spreading her legs to accommodate both his hand and the swell of his gut. “Yes.”

 

“What was that?” He removed his hand, grabbed her by the hip, and pressed her crotch down against his bulk.

 

“Yes! I knew you were coming here just to fuck me and I wanted to be ready for you.” She gave some of the flesh gathered at his jawline a half-kiss half-nip after this confession. "Happy?"

 

"Very."

 

Thanks to their bond, even with the barrier of their respective layers of clothing he knew just how hot and pulsing she was against the resistance his belly offered. His dick, hard the moment she had started kissing him in earnest, pulsed in sympathy from where it was trapped beneath his middle. To think he had ever been so self-conscious of something that Rey so adored.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo and Rey participate in some rather aggressive cuddling.

“Take your clothes off,” Rey demanded, grabbing at the front of his tunic. “I want to see more of you.”

 

“More of me?” Kylo asked, quirking an eyebrow.

 

Rey glanced down and rubbed at the ring of fat at his middle with one of her shoed feet to indicate what part of him she could already see quite well. The flesh had managed to slip free of the constraints of his clothes while he fought her, leaving a pale bulge showing through the gaps in his tunic just as he had attempted to avoid. He was able to push down his humiliation at the idea of his uncle might have gawked at it with thoughts of how Rey had most certainly admired it.

 

Rey slid down to rest on Kylo's lap as he complied, pulling the too-tight tunic off over his head. She followed suit, stripping herself of her top layers with quickness that belied his struggle to take the clingy fabric off of his body. Before he had pulled his own garment all the way off, Rey had already shoved the waistband of Kylo’s pants down, allowing the full shape of his gut to hang out. Kylo tossed the tunic to the floor. Rey climbed back up on top of the cushiony swell of his middle the moment it was freed up and kissed one of his exposed breasts.

 

The Force thrummed as they bared themselves to each other, belying the nervousness that had kept Kylo from wanting to save sex in earnest with Rey beyond their pawing at each other through their Force bond.

 

Kylo started to shimmy out of his pants, groaning with relief at the release of pressure on his middle, thighs, and most of all his very, very erect dick. Kylo kept his boots on, slipping his pants off over them more out of impatience than anything else. It would have been difficult to do with Rey still clinging to his torso, besides.

 

She, meanwhile, waited until he had bared himself to take anything more than her far more easily removed boots off as Kylo insisted on being the one to strip her of her pants. Rey rolled her eyes but complied. Hands braced on his shoulders, she gave the occasional rotation of her hips to rut against his belly as a reminder of the wet heat that had begun to seep through the crotch of her pants with the amount of continual arousal she had.

 

It did not go ignored. The moment Kylo had his pants off, he took to removing hers. Inch by inch, he slid them off with one hand while the other explored the exposed skin. He pressed his plump fingers to the sharp prod of one of Rey’s hipbones, then the slight curve of her ass, and finally he dipped them beneath to run his pointer from her taint to the slick seam of her cunt.

 

Rey’s already tight hold on him got tighter, her initial bluster melting in the face of having him actually touch her. Her hands slid from his shoulders to his back in a half-hug. Her hands could not hope to meet around the broad spread of his back, but she seemed to be trying.

 

Kylo parted her lips with his pointer and ring finger so that he could run his middle up and down her swollen pussy. The hand occupied with pulling off her pants all but ripped them the rest of the way off so that he could use it to tuck some of the flyaway hairs that had come loose from the buns in Rey’s hair behind her ears.

 

Rey flushed and bit her lip, not meeting Kylo’s eyes. At that moment, Rey looked more like a coy little girl rather than the brutal woman who managed to fight him into submission, disfigure him, and indirectly contribute to him binge eating himself into being an even less formidable threat to her while she was at it. Seeing her so vulnerable aroused in Kylo more of his carnal attraction to her as well as a fierce promise to protect her. She probably would not need him, but should she ever, he knew he would be there for her.

 

“Too much?” Kylo asked, withdrawing his hand and casually licking away the juices from his fingers, savoring the little taste of bitterness.

 

Rey took a shaky breath and eyed Kylo’s tongue lapping at her slick. “It feels nice, but it’s just… different. Having you actually be here. Touching me with no barriers, whether that’s hundreds of lightyears or... you know... my pants separating us.”

 

“I don’t suppose—” He choked on the word, but forced it out. “—cuddling with me for a bit would help you feel any better?”

 

The mischievous spark returned to Rey’s eyes and he was relieved for it.

 

Kylo sat back in the pilot’s seat, affixing his hands on the sides of Rey’s bared waist and pulling her to him. He couldn’t help but give a shuddery smile at the tickle of her erect nipples rubbing against his lower belly and her wet cunt on his thigh. His dick was sandwiched between his belly and one of her legs, which she took the liberty to rub against him every once in a while. For her sake, he tried to squelch the most tumultuous of his feelings when she touched his erection for too long.

 

Rey’s hands left his back. She put one sun-bronzed hand on the vast mass of stomach while the other rested on the curve of his hip. The generous handful of flesh was given a thorough squeezing with Rey’s fingers threatening to be swallowed up by the fat bulging around them.

 

This was far better than having her illusions in the Force touch him, Kylo decided. He could feel her rapid heartbeat where her chest pressed against his middle, the brush of her breath on his skin, and the slight weight of her body in his lap. All of this is in addition to the intimacy of their minds coalescing until they were almost one. It was bliss as she squeezed his belly, but he couldn’t help but miss the violent edge of some of his fantasies.

 

“Hit it,” Kylo said.

 

Rey glanced up at him, licking her lips, and Kylo swore he felt her clit throb especially hard against his thigh. “What?”

 

“Hit my stomach. It feels good.”

 

“Did you develop some sort of complex on Starkiller?”

 

“Hit me, right now,” Kylo growled.

 

Without needing further prodding, Rey gave his belly a slap, eyes trained on the resulting rippling flesh. Kylo’s breath hitched as he relished the way the small patch of skin stung. Rey gauged his reaction with a small prod through their bond. She smoothed her fingertips over the thick of the dark hair around his navel. Then she stuck her hand beneath the heavy spillover, hefted it, and slapped it again. Kylo looked down to see his belly forced into thick rolls as Rey lifted the bottommost portion up. He was truly enormous, made all the more clear by the seeming tininess of the average-sized woman touching him.

 

“You’ve always been enormous in one way or another,” Rey murmured, her Coruscanti inflections getting thicker as her voice got sultrier.

 

“I used to have a much stronger core, thank you,” Kylo said in spite of himself, running his fingers up and down her sides and relishing the slight shiver from her.

 

Rey slapped him once more, focusing on the thickest bulge of fat. “Liar. I think even before, you had a bit of a tummy just waiting to turn into this. You always wanted more, deep down, because you knew I would love it.”

 

Kylo moaned and squirmed in dispute even as his mind gave her continual affirmation that he loved her saying as much. Rey teased one of Kylo’s nipples to give him some reprieve from the roughness. This only further tormented him. Kylo leaned down and kissed her, first on her breasts, then between them, rubbing his cheek against her. He had to put his hands on her back to make sure she didn’t get shoved out of his lap by the swell of his stomach bulging out as he leaned over, instead pushing her more into him. She pulled herself higher up until she was more or less back on top of his belly, allowing Kylo to stop craning his neck down to nuzzle her chest.

 

“You tried to hide it for a while. I bet you thought you could tighten that thick belt around your middle like a corset and it crush the little bit of pudge down. But then you grew in new places.” Rey crossed her arms around Kylo’s head, keeping him pressed to her chest. “And now you’re so fat it isn’t as easy to imagine disguising what a big, insatiable, lust-filled _beast_ you are.”

 

Gone was any of her initial nervousness. It turned out all she needed was to get into her element by touching him.

 

Kylo’s supple lips gave way to the hard edges of his teeth as he scraped them over her breastbone. “If I’m a beast, then it must be in my nature to devour a maiden like you.”

 

A quiver ran through Rey’s entire body. Their bond informed Kylo of how very many images came to mind at his choice of words. He complemented them with his own notions.

 

Rey pressed her lips to Kylo’s crown and whispered, “Are you hungry?”

 

“Ravenous,” Kylo breathed back, turning his head so that his scarred cheek rubbed against her and he could kiss the side of her left breast.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo demonstrates his eating abilities to Rey.

The hungry passion coiled tight between their conjoined minds and bodies made it difficult to reason, but it did not take long for them to realize they needed to adjust their positioning a bit.

 

Kylo’s shuttle did not have much in the way of bedding, given that it was meant to rely mostly on the _Finalizer_ to travel distances longer than the short trips planetside and thus did not have need for overnight quarters. There were, however, a few small medical cots that could be pulled from compartments in the hull. Kylo thought it better to have Rey settle sideways on one of them with her legs hanging over the side rather than on the Force-mangled pilot seat.

 

She agreed and slid off of him, only to immediately tremble and wrap her arms around herself once separated from him. The ship had grown even chillier than usual with nightfall. The orange glow of sunset turned to silvery white light of Ahch-To’s moon shone through the viewport.

 

“Cold, little Rey?” Kylo purred with sensual confidence and smoothness that belied the clumsy way he pried his heavy body from the seat.

 

“I’m not little. You’re just—” Rey’s voice caught as he stood at his full height to loom over her. “—really big.”

 

Kylo smirked and embraced her against the stove-like heat radiating from his body. Rey wrapped her arms around him. Hard to believe she had hated him when she hugged him with such blissful trust. And, Kylo reminded himself sternly, still hated him deep down, no matter how appealing she found his body. Even if he still had trouble understanding why that was if he gave it much thought.

 

Something slipped through their bond, something that Rey probably did not intend for him to see but the Force willed regardless. A reminder of the loneliness he had glimpsed when he scoured her mind on Starkiller. Desert nights on Jakku were frigid. She would have cherished someone like him hold her and keep her warm back then. Kylo held her more tightly and hoped that in some small way he could make up for how not just he, but the galaxy had slighted her by making her miserable.

 

Rey, unaware of his somber musings over her past, or perhaps aware and determined to ignore them, had shut her eyes and leaned the side of her face against his belly. She went on to wrap a leg around one of his. Kylo was reminded of his purpose for standing with her as her cunt—soft curls, swollen lips, and the sultry wetness—rubbed against his thigh.

 

Rey looked up and gave him a mischievous grin that crinkled the bridge of her nose. Kylo felt himself break into a grin in turn. She was so _adorable_ despite her life’s torment. Her teasing paradoxically downplayed and hinted at how much more vicious she could become if provoked. Kylo let a hot gush of his adoration of her show through the bond, relishing the blush that colored her cheeks in response.

 

Though there were a few more intervals for hugging and groping and humping like they were pubescent teenagers, they ended up at the medical cots in the hull eventually.

 

Despite her clear attempt to stifle it, Rey shivered again when she sat down on the edge of one of the cots once it had been pulled out. Kylo remedied the discomfort for her by gathering the clothes they had discarded on the floor with the Force and wrapping them around her shoulders. He kept her arm wraps for his knees as he knelt on the ground before her.

 

Kylo’s belly brushed her legs and the floor as he leaned forward. He cringed, then took a breath and looked up at Rey. She looked at once sweet and ardent as she peered down at him, swathed partway in the clashing fabrics of her blue vest and his charcoal black tunic. The blush trailing down her face and neck, the slight parting of her lips, and the way she so eagerly spread her legs when he put his hands on her knees reassured him. It was with easy obedience that he never thought he would be able to coax from her that she slung her legs over his shoulders, putting his face on level with the apex of her thighs. His scarred shoulder tensed a bit at the unfamiliar touch, but Kylo forced it to slacken.

 

Kylo placed his hands on either side of her waist, very nearly able to have his thumbs meet in the middle. Worrisome. He needed to convince her to put on some weight. Not to the extent that he had, maybe, but just enough that she was something more than the leanly muscled waif Jakku fashioned her into. Even as he thought as much, Kylo admitted to himself that he liked her body. It suited her scrappy nature.

 

His cheeks ended up squashed when he leaned forward, but judging by the shuddery movement that Rey made, she liked it, so Kylo resolved to put up with the discomfort. The scrape of his battered cheek against her left thigh especially seemed to draw out her interest. He knew that it was simply the contrast of the coarser texture that she liked, but he could not help but fancy that she enjoyed the reminder of how she had marked him, apologetic for her actions or not.

 

With this in mind, Kylo leaned his scarred cheek hard against her thigh as he put his mouth to her cunt. Rey threaded her fingers through Kylo’s hair when he parted her outer lips, stuck together with her fluids, with an incessant prod of his tongue. He was rewarded with her slippery, molten core. His tongue felt near cold by comparison until he had spent some time licking her with the broad length of it, teasing at her with the tip and tasting her hot juices. Kylo made sure to spend time circling her clit, sucking it hard on occasion, threatening but never quite actually closing his teeth down on the delicate nub.

 

He paid attention to the fluctuation of her feelings in the Force and responded accordingly. No one had ever gotten this close to her. She had stopped anyone who tried. The Force confirmed what Kylo already guessed in light of her apprehension when it came to touching her cunt.

 

The loosely hung clothing slipped off of her body as she adjusted to his movements, but either she warmed up or she became too entranced to care. Not that it was obvious either way. Rey stayed quiet at first. The muscles in her abdomen trembling were the most indication Kylo had that she felt his attentions. This was especially apparent when he left her slickened lips to press sloppy kisses on the area just below her navel and gave himself time to breathe. She made a mewling sound when he returned his mouth between her legs, then clapped a hand over her mouth. Kylo peered up at her through his disheveled bangs and moaned against her clit. Rey clutched both hands over her mouth, then, trying to stifle any sounds of pleasure in danger of escaping her lips.

 

Kylo wanted to tell her to let him hear her, but his mouth was otherwise occupied with fucking her with his tongue. The bond allowed him to convey the message instead. Rey responded with telepathy right back, worried that she sounded strange. Her mental voice rang aggressive to make up for the admission to embarrassment, a tactic Kylo knew all too well. Nevertheless, he had to stifle a snort. There he was, making all manners of messy noises as he ate her out and she was worried about sounding strange.

 

“That’s different.” Rey’s thighs clasped more tightly around Kylo’s head as she crossed her legs at the calf where they rested against his back. “You sound good.”

 

“Do I?” Kylo hummed and tilted his head as he slid his lips and tongue over her folds in turns. “Do you mean that I sound like—”

 

And here he projected some of the memories associated with when he had eaten his meals while in the medbay with markedly loud gluttony. There were many to choose from. His eating habits betrayed the royal Alderaanian etiquette he had been raised with in every sense. Kylo recalled one instance when he had discarded silverware in favor of shoving ice cream into his mouth with the hand on his uninjured arm. The resulting slurping and licking that he made as his tongue rolled over his slick fingers sounded markedly similar to the noises he made currently as he serviced her cunt.

 

“Kriff, Kylo,” Rey lowered her hands from her mouth to say in a fierce whisper, “you slovenly wreck. You’re so kriffing hot.”

 

Kylo thrived off of the backhanded praise. His hands slid from her waist to her ass so he could lift her partway off the cot and get at her from a better angle. All the while, she had gotten more and more aroused and begun to squirm. Rey’s hips twitched and occasionally canted forward, movements which Kylo willfully met. Her clit and lips were heavy and throbbing in time with the rapid beat of her heart. Kylo’s dick shared the sentiment. Not that it received any relief. He had long since resolved to ignore his own arousal even if it was torment as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

 

Rey’s breaking point came when Kylo squeezed her ass in tandem with an especially hard suckle on her clit. She tangled her hands back in his hair rather than covering her mouth as she finally allowed herself a sweet, high-pitched noise; a cross between a sigh and a moan that she no doubt thought sounded odd but Kylo liked very much. Her legs trembled as her cunt pulsed against Kylo’s still-working mouth, then she relaxed, disentangling her fingers from his hair, laying back on her elbows, and panting.

 

Kylo could not contain his self-congratulatory smile. "Good?"

 

"Not bad," Rey attempted to snark, but the breathiness of her voice and a small "oh" she made when Kylo kissed her sensitized core ruined her composure.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey sucks Kylo off and manages not to get smothered.

The medical cot sagged and creaked dangerously under Kylo’s weight to the point of him only having his boots a half inch off of the floor when they switched places, but it held. He shifted to get comfortable until he was spread out, aching and ready for Rey.

 

For a long moment she hesitated, staring at where his erection was pressed hard up under the pillowy swell of his gut.

 

“I’m going to use my mouth, too,” Rey said, ducking her head but not quite managing to disguise how she licked her lips.

 

There was nothing in the way of contraceptives on Kylo’s ship even if she had wanted him to penetrate her, so he conceded the point. Kylo preferred to wait until he could take her on a proper bed, anyway. This would more than suffice for now. He nodded in turn as she lifted her chin and approached him. The way the cot was situated, they ended up on eye-level.

 

Rey set her hands on his sides, squeezing lightly. She leaned forward so that her body was pressed into him before she kissed his mouth, the fold of his buccula, between his breasts, then down the long stretch of his belly to his navel. Her hands slid down alongside, lingering on his left flank for an extra moment, until they were fixed on the lowest fold of fat on his belly. She kneeled on top of the arm wraps Kylo had left on the floor, disappearing from his sight. If he craned his neck he could see the top of her head and her slightly askew hair, but otherwise his gut blocked the way. He bit his lip and furrowed his eyebrows. He had pictured Rey sucking his dick many, many times, but he had only recently had to take into account the massive paunch.

 

After kissing the rest of the way down his middle, right along his treasure trail, Rey lifted his belly out of the way with one hand. She used the other to wrap her fingers around the shaft of his dick, then gave the latter a tentative lick. Kylo let her explore and tried not to be too frustrated with how her investigative touches completely teased his body. Pre-ejaculate oozed out of him more and more with every fluttery touch of her fingers and lips and tongue. He half-thrusted his hips on impulse more than once, particularly when Rey traced the seam running down the middle of his scrotum with her fingertip. She took his reaction as a good sign based on how she leaned closer to retread the same area with her tongue.

 

The heat rooted in Kylo’s belly spasmed and he felt a tingle in his lower back that had him shifting to arch his spine every time she similarly hit on somewhere good. Every move that he made was exaggerated by the sheer amount of fat on his body; his flesh jiggled and rippled with even the tiniest movement. Rey massaged the curve of his belly with the hand holding it whenever he moved especially violently. Her fingers sank into the softness and made Kylo’s nerves shudder.

 

Kylo had already consigned himself to suffering under her touches when Rey gathered up her courage and put her lips around the head. Keeping himself from moving was a test in willpower as Rey suckled on the head of his dick. Even further unintentional teasing. Virgin, he reminded himself pointedly as he petted the top of her head with one hand while the other toyed with one of his nipples. He squeezed the whole of a soft breast in vexation when she withdrew and tried licking the side of his shaft again. It felt good to have her even beginning to have her mouth on him, great, even, but he wanted more.

 

“More?” Rey asked against his thigh, clearly confused about what she was doing wrong.

 

“More.” Kylo gave her a very graphic visual aid through the bond to supplement it. “It’s your turn to eat up.”

 

Rey made an affronted, rather posh gasp. He could see in her mind’s eye an attempt to figure out how she would fit the very large, very stiff organ in her mouth, or even if she wanted to, reciprocity be damned.

 

Kylo tsked and rubbed the side of his belly. “I guess I am just all-around too big for a puny scavenger girl to handle.”

 

She took the bait line and sinker. Rey engulfed half of his dick in her mouth with a sensation of wetness and warmth and softness and only the tiniest scrape of teeth.

 

“Gently,” he hissed in response to the latter.

 

The hand she had been using to hold his belly up and out of the way left its post to grab his thigh, leaving the full plush weight of it to fall on top of her head. The already compromising position between his thick thighs was made even more so.

 

“Can you breathe like that?” Kylo asked, tilting his head.

 

Rey hummed an affirmative around his dick, causing Kylo to temporarily forget his concerns. She bobbed her head with some difficulty given the constraints of the crushed position. Despite that, Kylo thought that it was already loads better than her previous attempts. The semi-mortifying sensation of having his wobbling gut heaped on top of her head was tempered by the deliciousness of her trying to lick every inch of him. This close, she had more access to him than before.

 

If only she was not struggling to breathe. Despite her claims against it in the Force and audibly when he asked, he could sense that he was smothering her after only about half a minute.

 

“That’s enough,” Kylo said.

 

If he was going to kill her by cutting off her oxygen, it would have to be strangulation, anyway. Smothering with a blubbery body was not the Skywalker way.

 

Kylo slid off of the cot and landed with a hard slam of his boots on the floor, then seized Rey by two of her hair buns to pull her off. She let her mouth slide wetly off of him with a gasp. Kylo could feel his saliva-slicked dick brush against her cheek and the underhang of his gut as she leaned forward, puffing moist, warm breaths against his thigh.

 

“Why did you—? I… I can do it,” she panted.

 

“Patience, padawan,” he said, petting the top of her head. “You need to tell me if anything hurts.”

 

Rey nodded so that her forehead brushed his belly. “I’ll let you know with a bite, Master Ren.”

 

Kylo’s cock twitched and he dearly hoped it was due to the title and not the grisly threat. “Telling me with telepathy would be preferable.”

 

Rey tilted her face up and pressed it against his underbelly so that he could feel her grinning. She took a roll of his fat between her teeth and nibbled on it, drawing her head back to pull on it just enough to be on the border of painful, then let go.

 

Kylo idly wondered if it would leave a bruise as Rey returned her mouth to his dick with more confidence. Too much confidence, actually, as she tried to take it in deeper than before. The head ended up wedged against the vulnerable flesh of her esophagus and her nose was buried in his pubic hair. Rey gagged and Kylo drew back. She gave him a reprimanding smack on the side of his ass even though it was very much her fault. He let it slide because the slap and the resulting jiggle of his flesh turned him on.

 

They got into more of a rhythm after that. He fucked her mouth with as much ferocity as was allowed to be tender with her—which, with their differences in size, amounted to a slow but steady rocking of his hips.

 

Kylo placed both of his hands on either side of his chest, shut his eyes, and bit his lip. His breasts were heavy and plushy-soft in his hands. His nipples had long-since stood erect in the confines of the cold ship, but they got even harder once Kylo groped at them. He pinched and squeezed at them enough to make himself gasp. He felt a small thrill go through Rey, so he kept it up, moaning indulgently as he played with his tits.

 

Losing it may not have been as romantic as he had fantasized about—eating out Rey’s pussy then getting blown by her in his very cold ship and without a proper bed, not to mention the bit about being grossly overweight—but Kylo could not help but enjoy it. The intermingling of their Force signatures made her spikes in satisfaction clear when she managed to please him, and he was sure to continue to be very vocal when she did.

 

Her mouth seemed hotter and slicker with every passing moment. Kylo groaned as she used her hands to stroke the length of his shaft that she could not fit, or to cup his balls in accordance with his mental nudging to do so. The fact that he knew that it was Rey’s calloused fingers, Rey’s slippery little tongue, just Rey in general—his powerful, beautiful rival—added more fire to his arousal. She was trying to make him feel good despite, or even in part because, of his fattened up form and he loved it.

 

Kylo mentally warned Rey that unless she wanted a mouthful of very thick, very salty fluid she should take her mouth off of him. She obeyed and Kylo replaced her mouth with his hand, jerking himself the rest of the way to completion.

 

Kylo was awash with warm, muzzy pleasure that had him sinking back down on the cot as he reached his peak. Rey, meanwhile, let out a small cry. He leaned over to see that she had cum spattered on her forehead, one of her cheeks, and the smallest bit dribbling over her upper lip. Her initial shock was replaced by a glare when she made eye contact with him.

 

Grinning, Kylo reached out with the Force and dragged her up into his lap before she could wipe it off. He laid on his back with Rey on top, trying to gauge whether or not the cot would hold them. It was at a near-diagonal point thanks to Kylo sitting heavily down on it, but it had not yet broken. Kylo thanked the Force along with whoever had designed it. Focusing back on the still very indignant and spunk-covered Rey, Kylo pulled her down so they were face to face. With a few swipes of his tongue, Kylo cleaned the rapidly cooling semen from her face and ended it with a small peck on her lips.

 

“All better,” he murmured after swallowing.

 

“You know, you can be kind of sweet when you’re not horrible and gross,” Rey said, framing the scarred side of his face with one hand before giving him a peck back. “Getting that rank stuff on my face was both of those things, by the way.”

 

She cuddled closer to him, laying her head on his chest and curling up into a ball on top of his belly. She had gotten a clammy level of cold again, so Kylo made sure to hold her very tightly to his temperate body as they settled in for a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, ring in the reylo and the struggle to semi-accurately write about a blowjob kept me in limbo with this chapter for a bit. As always, comments are very much appreciated. <3
> 
> [Check me out on tumblr.](http://cobwebbing.tumblr.com/)


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo falls into a pit of conflict and self-loathing and is aching with hunger all over again, as he is wont to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some shades of body dysmorphia and thoughts about starvation but honestly if you've made it this far in the fic you should be okay.

Kylo awoke from his dozing to the sound and sensation of his stomach growling. He grunted irritably; it felt like only hours ago that he’d last eaten and he was already hungry again. No better than a Gamorrean boar. He felt a little sick, but it dissipated when he shifted and recalled his bedmate snuggled on top of him.

 

She certainly didn’t mind what a pig he’d become, did she?

 

Rey had curled up on her side and pillowed her head on one of his breasts. A line of saliva slid from the side of her partway-open mouth and onto his skin. Kylo reached out and stroked the top of her head, then played with her hair buns by lifting them up and letting them drop with the tip of his finger. They were somewhat loosened and a few hairs had been pulled free from where he’d tugged on them earlier.

 

He shifted and arched his back to get a kink out of it, trying not to disturb her sleep. Rey made a small noise of discontent but snuggled back against his chest once he settled back down. Kylo pet her a bit again and wished that he’d been able to take her in his quarters in the _Finalizer_ where he’d be able to offer her a better sleeping space than pillowed on his gut.

 

The _Finalizer._ It occurred to him, quite suddenly, that he was committing treason.

 

He would have to sway her to ally herself with the First Order. He could justify running off from the _Finalizer_ out of the blue and perhaps even get the supreme leader to turn a blind eye to his apprentice’s sudden weight gain if he showed up with a new Force sensitive girl. Even more so if he revealed the location of Luke Skywalker.

 

That felt more like treason than going against the First Order, though.

 

Discontented by the hunger rumbling in his belly and the sudden treasonous thoughts in his head, Kylo stayed awake for some time. He managed to fall back asleep after turning himself and Rey on their sides and spooning her, pressing the middle of his belly to the shallow bowl of her lower back.

 

He woke up once more to find himself alone. Stupidly panicked for a moment, he called out for Rey, then calmed down once he stretched out his senses in the Force and felt her near. His stomach growled again, selfish as always. Kylo sank his fingertips into it. He should get more used to being hungry. He could afford to miss a meal or two. Or twenty.

 

After a moment spent feeling around in the dark around on the floor near the cot with his foot, Kylo discovered he couldn’t find his clothes in the darkness. Groaning, he slid off of the cot and went toward the cockpit to turn on some of the ships’ lights. The automatics had already kicked in toward the front with his movements. Kylo arrived at the cockpit, but froze when he caught sight of himself reflected in the transparisteel viewport.

 

 _This_ was what Rey had been willing to sleep with, both literally and figuratively?

 

Kylo’s skin showed up starkly against the contrast of the night sky disrupted only by pinpricks of stars and a slice of Ahch-To’s moon. He was sure that even if the moon was full it wouldn’t manage to distract from his massive body.

 

He knew that he was big, but it hadn’t quite sunk in how the weight had distributed since he never could stand to look too closely at himself for long. His stomach was the centerpiece, of course, the part of him that had grown most exponentially. It didn’t have the decency to just be a perfectly round potbelly like the one on some of the older smugglers he’d seen his father pal around with in cantinas in another life, no, it had a soft, formless heft to it. No wonder Rey sank into it as if it was a featherbed. In a moment of blind optimism, Kylo tried to suck it in. He managed an inch or two, trembled with the effort of trying to contract his diaphragm and flatten his guts to make leeway for the fat, then had to let his massive abdomen bulge back out again. It heaved as he caught his breath. It looked bigger than ever.

 

Something else. He needed to look at something else. Kylo knew that he should go back on his quest to find his clothes, but he found himself just examining other parts of his body. Anything had to be better than his belly.

 

It wasn’t. His arms, which he glanced over next, were bloated and weak. How had he begun to think he could ever fight like this? Even his fingers were fat. His hips had become thicker across than his shoulders when he’d been thin. He couldn’t bring himself to turn around and look at his ass. It would be too mortifying. He felt how much it had grown already from his attempts at sitting in too-small seats. Bad enough seeing the state of his sides. Soft rolls sloped over them in folds to match the cushioning beneath his breasts, kriffing breasts. The freckles smattered across his torso were lost in seas of white flesh. And his face—

 

Without intending to, Kylo let himself look up at it. He leaned forward, belly crushed into the dash and hands braced on either side, and really looked. He’d always hated his face and took a lot of security in his mask. It seemed to him that genetics took the worst of both of his parents’ faces and had them smashed together into the picture of absolute ugliness. And then it got swollen up because he hadn’t been able to control himself from something as basic as eating. At least now his plump lips matched the rest of him. They trembled a little and he swallowed in a vain attempt to get rid of the rawness in his throat.

 

How Rey brought herself to touch his face, or any other part of him, he couldn’t even begin to figure out. In the heat of the moment he’d been so willing to press his advantage by doing things he thought she would like, even if it meant pressing his belly against her and letting her sleep on him or, Maker, having her suck his dick even with pounds upon pounds of his body pressing in on her.

 

Kylo felt a twinge of arousal at the memory and became even more disgusted with himself. He didn’t deserve the pleasure Rey gave him. He’d hounded her to this point and she felt like she had to indulge him. That was all.

 

He recalled the look Rey made before she turned away from his torn-open body on Starkiller. Pity. Did she pity him still? He made for a more reprehensible sight than a pitiful one, especially for someone as wonderful as her.

 

As if summoned by his thoughts (and knowing their bond that very well could be the case), Rey returned to the ship. Kylo smelled food, belatedly remembering that Luke had promised to make a meal for them.

 

He glanced behind him and realized that she carried a good few more clay bowls than what was appropriate for two people. She brought extra for him.

 

The confliction between liking that she cared enough to do so and hating that he would probably devour every bit and still want more turned his empty stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Avdal for giving me the last nudge of motivation I needed to finish cleaning up and post this chapter after having messed around with it for far too long. tHANK <3 
> 
> The next chapter is already partway written and you guys needn't expect as much of a gap before the next update. Hope you enjoyed Kylo's angsting, Rey's gonna have to pick up the pieces.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dispelling of self-consciousness and a bit of feeding.

Kylo turned away from Rey, unable to bear looking at her. He caught sight of his discarded clothing at last, pulled them to him across the room with the Force, and hastened to at the very least put on his pants. The ripped seams in the thighs hadn't stopped him before and they sure as hell wouldn't now. He kept turned away from her, mortified at the idea that he had his plumpened rear on display as he forced himself into the too-small constraints of the garment but still unable to look her in the eye.

 

His sense of smell sharpened with his hunger and saliva pooled at the base of his tongue with the wafting scent of the food as she walked up next to him. Again, he felt like a base creature, piggish, controlled by his rampant appetite and bulk.

 

She'd called him a beast before, twice. What had been a sharp reproach turned charming, gentle jibe during sex now needled him again.

 

Kylo had caught stray thoughts from the troops before of him being animalistic, but it was always during his rages, not in this sense. Kylo found that despite how upset with himself he was he did not even have the energy to think about wrecking anything with his saber. No, he just wanted to cuddle up with Rey in bed again and eat every last bit of that food--

 

Kylo grit his teeth as he wrestled with the button on his pants. Obscured by flab as it was, it became impossibly more difficult to do the menial task of buttoning them.

 

It figured that she would see him this way. Stupid, desperate, pathetic--

 

"What's wrong?" She asked, setting down the bowls on the dashboard before turning to him.

 

Rey had fully dressed again and added a hooded cape to her ensemble, presumably to help shelter her from a bit of the cold onboard the ship. She looked so effortlessly pretty in her practical garb and Kylo found himself a strange brand of jealous.

 

Some of the concern colored their bond, catching on to some of the upset Kylo had had before as he looked at himself. He couldn't tell her he was on the brink of a self-conscious meltdown.

 

"I don't want any dinner," he said gruffly as he finally managed to button his straining pants closed, then corrected himself: "I don't need it."

 

"Your stomach thinks otherwise," Rey said, snorting. "It told me so when it woke me with all of that rumbling."

 

Kylo wanted to snap something to defend himself and the embarrassing unconscious signs of hunger his body made. He opened his mouth. Right on cue, his stomach growled again. His mouth snapped shut and a blush that had already begun to color his face deepened. He flinched when Rey reached out and gave his gut a stroke with the flat of her hand.

 

Kylo recovered from being startled and was simply bewildered. Peering at her face only revealed a mild, contented expression. As if she wasn't giving her bitter rival a belly rub with little pretense.

 

Did that descriptor even suit him anymore, though? What did she see when she looked at him, he wondered. Nowhere near his perception, that much was clear.

 

Growing bolder, she snuggled up to his naked side. Her arm slid around him, the heft of a love handle cushioned in the crook of her elbow. It had bulged out more pointedly with the waist of his pants digging into him. The other arm cupped his belly. Kylo put an arm around her shoulders, but it was stiff, wary of holding her too closely. She could probably already see the pinkened flesh from where he'd rubbed and chafed against the military grade canvas on the cot. And, kriff, he probably smelled something terrible from sweat. Embarrassment threatened again and he had to tell himself to get a grip.

 

"I  _ am _ hungry," he allowed, a little shiver running through him as her tiny, cool little fingers kneaded his body like dough, "but I don't want to eat. I won't for some time."

 

He could fast for a while and deplete his store of fat. He'd get back into the grueling training regimen the supreme leader set for him and his knights.

 

"You're going to starve yourself?" Rey had stiffened with his declaration and then drew away from him.

 

She looked horrified and even a bit disgusted. Ironic that the reaction he expected from her when she initially saw how fat he was instead got reserved for when he said he wanted to limit food intake to get thinner.

 

“Yes. I need to lose weight, quickly. And frankly," he said, fueled by his upset to admit the burning question he'd had in the back of his mind, "I don't know why you find me attractive like this."

 

Rey crossed her arms and glanced away. For a long moment he didn’t think she was going to answer.

 

When she finally spoke, she said,  "You can more than take care of yourself. The First Order let you eat to the point of being this big.” 

 

They hadn’t exactly let him, but Kylo did not interrupt to correct her.

 

“Most beings that do that only care about themselves. Exclusively.” Her arms tightened around herself. “On Jakku, I’d see the few who could afford it gorging right in front of starving scavengers. They were cruel, but in such luxury. Like royalty, even in a scummy, junk-filled desert. And you… you further that. I know that for whatever reason you’re insecure about the way you look, but stars, Kylo, you look like a pampered prince to me. And when you stop being an arse for two seconds you act like it sometimes, too.” 

 

Kylo smirked in spite of himself.

 

“And you wanted to be with me. Despite everything--" and here her eyes slid down his scar "--you sought me out. And you seem to genuinely want me. Even care about me. I can always feel it in your head. I realize you're averse to the change, but I like you softer. In more ways than one."

 

She looked very small and unsure of herself, standing there with her arms wrapped around herself in a self-hug. Ironic, considering how vulnerable she made him feel on a regular basis. Shoving aside his self-loathing--it seemed so easy to do when she was around--he hugged her. She snuggled up against his soft belly and exhaled softly. They stood like that for a long while. 

 

Then, after mustering up his confidence, Kylo said, "The food's probably getting cold."

 

It made him sick to think of eating, but it made him sicker to potentially make her unhappy. He knew that was not the best reason to practice basic self-care, but it was something.

 

He sat down on the pilot seat again and Rey climbed into his lap, arranging herself so they were facing each other with her thighs tucked under the overhang of his belly while her calves and feet dangled. Her breasts and the hardened plane of her abdomen felt odd but not unwelcome pressed up against his hungry middle again.

 

Kylo glanced at the food, finally visually taking in what his nose had told him was there all along. The soup wasn't even the only thing on the menu as he initially thought. Rey had made multiple trips while he slept. Where his uncle had gotten milk Kylo could only imagine--maybe it was powdered?--but there was a jug of the blue liquid waiting next to a loaf of bread.

 

Rey ripped off a hunk of the loaf and dipped it in the soup, then offered it to him. The broth stained the pale, soft insides dark. Kylo pursed his lips, reminded of when the medical staff onboard the  _ Finalizer _ had tried to hand feed him. By all accounts, he should refuse her or at the very least snatch the food away.

 

Kylo had hoped his resolve was a durasteel wall, but before her beautiful, insistent face and the scent of food it was a lace curtain. Grumbling, he bowed his head and ate the hunk of sodden bread. He expected it to be stale, something his uncle scrounged up from some storeroom, but the insides are spongey and stretchy even beyond where it soaked up the broth. Freshly baked, then, and crusted dark on the outside from where it had no doubt been near the coals of Luke's pit fire.

 

Rey smiled when he licked her fingertips, chasing the broth that had dripped onto them and tickling her in the process. Her laughter and the warmth in his throat made him feel drunk. He kept eating, accepting mouthfuls of soup-soaked bread from her hand. She fed him the rest of the loaf that way, save for a couple of bites she tore off and ate herself. Rey kept an idle hand on his belly, reminding Kylo of where the glut was going. He swallowed thickly and contented himself with the idea that if he went too far he could puke it up later.

 

Once all of the bread was gone, he had a swallowful of the milk. As he suspected, it tasted like powdered milk mixed with water. He griped about it for a moment, spoiled by the fresher milk he had tasted before, then he realized Rey did not seem to know the difference. He didn't pick through her mind, but he could imagine a younger, frailer Rey in the desert savoring powdered milk if she could get a hold of it.

 

Kylo shut up after that. Watching her drink, he resolved to get her some fresh milk and cream and butter the first chance he got and to be sure she never had to have substitutes for real food again. He had so many things he needed to supply her with, things that had always been basic staples for him and would be luxuries to her.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having a discussion like adults is hard so Rey and Kylo end up wrestling on the floor trying to decide who gets to take who back home.

Kylo felt warm and full. And content. Very content. More than he could remember being in a while.

 

It was hard not to be with the girl of his dreams in his lap, nestled against him with a light blush dusted across her cheeks. Rey’s hand stroked the side of his belly and her head lay cushioned on one of his breasts. In a way, the feeding and cuddling had been more therapeutic than the sex. Kylo can’t remember ever holding or being held so intimately. Going back to sleep with her was a real temptation.

 

The only thing that kept him awake was the slight tickle of her fingers kneading the underside of his belly like a rangy cat and a bit of trepidation creeping into her aura in the Force.

 

He hummed as she circled her thumb around his navel and then gently pushed the tip into it. “What’s wrong? You got me to eat everything. I’m being good.”

 

Rey extracted her wandering touches and said, quite suddenly, “You should come home with me.”

 

“To Jakku?”

 

He didn’t realize her daydreaming had gone that far, or that she’d ever want to return to the site of so much torment for her growing up. Besides, Kylo didn’t know how well he would last in the desert, between the heat on his already temperate body and the sun on his fair skin. Although they would be able to get that Crolute to give them all the portions they wanted with a mere suggestion with the Force…

 

Rey shook her head. “To the Illenium system. To the Resistance.”

 

The last bit of the calm disappeared. It was like flipping a switch. Kylo could feel the all-too-familiar anger begin to gather in his full belly, bubbling like a cauldron. His guts hurt with the increased stress, rumbling audibly, and the back of his throat felt acidic.

 

Had his uncle put her up to this? His mother?

 

He couldn’t go back. Especially not now.

 

And yet… Kylo wanted to. He really did. Despite what ended up happening on Starkiller, his father convinced him that going home was the right thing to do.

 

But…

 

He told her the same thing he told Han Solo: “It’s too late.”

 

“I thought that it was too. But I was wrong.”

 

“I can’t do that, Rey,” he said, cupping the side of her face in his hand.

 

Rey turned away from his touch. “You can’t or you won’t?”

 

Kylo balled his hand into a fist and lowered it. “Pick one.”

 

Rey pulled away from him and stood, leaving him missing the slight weight and press of her while he remained in the chair.

 

“So what’s your plan, then?” Rey asked. “To just go back to the First Order?”

 

Kylo stared down at his heaving belly for a moment, trying in vain to calm his breathing. Truth be told he hadn’t thought of a plan beyond getting to see her.

 

Still, he answered, “Yes.”

 

“You dropped by here with the intention of just fucking me before going home to people that want to kill me?”

 

Kylo felt smaller and smaller with every passing moment. He stood up to dispel that feeling, towering over Rey. His tummy stuck out far enough that it almost brushed her. A wall of fat separating them. He was enormous, there was no question.

 

So why did he still feel so small under Rey’s accusing gaze?

 

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” he said, trying and failing to keep his voice level. “Rey, you can come with me instead. I wouldn’t let them hurt you.”

 

Kylo took a step forward and Rey took one back.

 

She shook her head, her mouth a tight line. “You’d leave them free to hurt the people I care about. Besides, I’m not interested in becoming like you; a tool for the First Order to be thrown away once I stop being perceived as useful.”

 

He felt indignation and hurt twist his insides. His hand itched for his lightsaber. If he could destroy everything in his kriffing ship maybe he’d be able to destroy all of the emotions welling up. Or maybe he should just vomit and lay down in the acidic puddle and let it eat away at him. It’d certainly feel better than what he currently felt--

 

Kylo sucked in a breath, then released it. Clearly, talking it out wasn’t working.

 

“Scavenger,” he said the pseudo-pet name in something of a growl. “Let’s strike a deal.”

 

Rey raised her eyebrows.

 

“You’re going to have to fight me.”

 

She reached for her lightsaber.

 

“No weapons. I don’t feel like being cut up again. If you can pin me to the floor, I’ll go—” he had to stop himself from saying “home” “—to the Resistance with you. If I pin you, you have to come with me to the First Order. No questions asked.”

 

Kylo half-expected her to react by calling out the blatant advantage he had over her with his size. He should have known better.

 

Without a word, only her teeth bared in a snarl for a moment to display her intent, Rey rushed him. However, even the element of surprise and her sheer determination didn’t change the fact that he was four times her size. Her short battle charge ended with her arms sinking into the soft dough of his middle as she wrapped them around him in what felt like a hug more than anything before trying to pull him to one side or the other. Her efforts were rewarded with little more than a rumble from Kylo’s full tummy.

 

Kylo stared down at her and debated at what point he should lean his weight forward and smoosh her flat as a pancake while he pinned her. His debate took a second too long; Rey changed tactics.

 

She buried the tips of her fingers into his flabby sides, making sure to err just above the scarring on the left side, and began to tickle him. Intensely.

 

“Rey—” Kylo choked out, trying to force her touch away so he could go about tackling her to the ground like he should have done from the start.

 

He kept hesitating. He’d come up with his “deal” in a split second and now it was occurring to him just how barbaric it was to determine both of their fates with this little contest. But she had to come with him. It was the only way.

 

Kylo almost succeeded in convincing himself to just sit on her and be done with it, then got thwarted again. Rey leaned down, pressed her face to the soft meat at his middle, and then stuck her tongue in his navel. The sensation made the base of his spine tingle with wasn’t entirely opposition.

 

Still, Kylo took half a step back. When his center of gravity changed, Rey head butted his belly and he promptly fell on his well-cushioned ass. Rey planted one foot between his breasts and pushed him down on his back. The cold durasteel floor against the bare skin on his torso made him cry out.

 

She tackled him, upsetting his stomach further, though most of the shock of her hitting him was just translated into every roll of flab on his torso jiggling. Kylo stared up at her with round-eyed shock, then his face crumpled into an expression more typical of him—anger. He wasn’t going to lose like this.

 

Kylo rolled over with a quick jerk so that he was on top, but Rey was a lot more squirmy than when he'd pinned her back in their shared dream. In all honesty, that dreamed experience was what had inspired him to choose to challenge her in such a way. Whatever dumb luck he'd had then seemed to have fled in light of Rey's determination. He had a difficult time keeping a grip on her even with his full weight bearing down on her.

 

Rey raked her nails down his soft sides. She was incredibly resolute in getting him to come with her. Kylo might have been flattered if he wasn't so fixated on getting her to come with him instead.

 

Their struggle would have continued a bit longer if not for the arrival of his uncle.

 

"Ben, Rey, I... are we interrupting something?"

 

Kylo glanced away from his opponent in time to see Luke enter the ship with a small army of porgs at his feet. They all gave a collective outcry at the sight of Rey being crushed.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey succeeds in getting Kylo to come with her to the Resistance.

Kylo received a dozen nips and scratches all over his torso from tiny porg mouths and claws. He rolled off of Rey in an attempt to extricate himself from the squawking horde that had come to her defense. The porgs’ wrath was far worse than Rey’s nails were but not so bad that they made him bleed. They just caused a lot of irritation and discomfort. Pink-red scratches and pinprick bite marks covered him in a matter of seconds.

 

His uncle eventually had mercy on Kylo and saved him by taking the vengeful birds off of him with a collective pull of the Force. Kylo lay on his back, breathing hard. He shut his eyes.

 

They shot back open again when a small weight settled on his belly—not one of the round, fluffy, nippy porgs, but rather Rey’s muscular ass. She sat on top of his heaving belly with a sort of grim satisfaction. As he looked up at her, confused, she grabbed his thick wrists and pressed them over his head to the floor.

 

“Got you,” she said, disregarding the total injustice of having him be weakened by Ahch-To’s guardians before she got him. “You’re coming with me to the Resistance.”

 

Kylo frowned and squirmed, trying to ignore thinking about how his blubbery body probably looked to Luke while he writhed on the floor. She leaned down and kissed him. His struggles ceased as she deepened the kiss and leaned down to pillow her torso against one of his breasts.

 

“Mine,” she whispered against his mouth, low enough that only he could hear.

 

Kylo felt a tiny thrill run through his gut at the possessiveness in her tone. It wasn’t enough to offset is irritation at being beaten, though.

 

“This isn’t fair.” He pouted as she pulled her lips away from his lips and pressed them to his round cheek.

 

He had almost had her. He’d been so close. His goal to bring her back home with him to the First Order as his apprentice was yanked from him in the most anticlimactic way possible.

 

It was only after Rey got off of him and offered him a hand that Kylo allowed the revelation to finally sink in: he was going to go home to his mother. His heart thudded as he stood up. That is to say, he was going to go if he kept true to his end of the bargain. Between Rey and his uncle, escaping that fate didn’t really seem like an option.

 

The thought of disappointing Snoke didn’t upset him too much anymore but the thought of him coming after him, or, worse, Rey, did.

 

Rey, unaware of his inner plight, said with a sly look, “We should get some thala-siren milk before we go.”

 

Kylo wasn’t entirely sure he trusted her expression. Luke’s laugh, poorly disguised as a cough, didn’t help either.

 

Before they left, his uncle gave a battered brown cloak to Kylo to cover himself up. He could only assume it was intended to be used for rainy weather based on how large it was and the slippery fabric that made it up.

 

The moment that he caught sight of one of the thala-sirens he understood the earlier mirth. Beasts with fat bellies and fatter breasts that drooped even more than his own lounged on one side of the island. Rey walked up to one, gave one of her flippers an affectionate rub, then grabbed a hold of one of the teats. She produced a bottle from the pack at her hip. With deft motions Rey began milking the beast, causing it to let out little snorting bellows that didn’t sound entirely displeased.

 

Once the bottle is full of green milk, Rey held it out to Kylo. “Here.”

 

Kylo took it with no small amount of reluctance. He could feel the warmth, a testament to its freshness, seeping through the material of the bottle. Rey looked at him expectantly.

 

He was repulsed by the idea of drinking some sea creature’s milk while standing not ten feet away from said creature. His repulsion, however, got outweighed by the sight of Rey’s eyes becoming almost porg-like with expectation.

 

Kylo took a sip. His eyes mirrored Rey’s.

 

He ended up drinking well over a gallon of the sweet, heavy milk, first from the bottle and then straight from the thala-siren’s teats when he got impatient. The lewdness of the position he got into on his hands and knees didn’t strike him until Rey gave him a pat on his rump. Then the fact that his full tummy sagged almost to the ground and, more pressing, that he had his face pressed to an alien creature’s breasts became clear to him.

 

Kylo walked away with his belly sloshing, feeling muzzy. It’s for this reason that Rey could convince him with only a little prodding that he should leave his ship on the island and get in the Millennium Falcon instead. That way, Rey explained, Luke would have a way to leave the island if he so chose.

 

Even in his milk-induced haze, Kylo became irritated. Luke didn’t seem to be planning on leaving the island any time soon, so his shuttle would probably do little more than collect dust and provide a new nesting ground for porgs. They had already infested the Falcon. Chewie was so preoccupied with getting them out of the electronic components of the ship that he didn’t seem to notice the huge passenger that Rey coaxed into one of the beds in the back of the ship.

 

Kylo’s belly gurgled and sloshed as he laid down. He couldn’t sleep thanks to the nap he had taken earlier with Rey, so he had to just lay there with his belly feeling like a water balloon as the ship took off. Jumping to lightspeed made it lurch.

 

Kylo felt ill thanks to that sensation and the reality of what he’s done in agreeing to come with Rey sinking in. He can only imagine that he’ll be arrested the moment he sets foot on the base and have his meaty wrists clamped into too-small handcuffs.

 

He tries to focus on Rey rubbing his upset stomach instead, but it doesn’t make him feel much better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOA I'm updating this fic again. I think there will be 2-3 chapters before it's done. Not to worry, I already have half of the next chapter completed so it shouldn't be a year-long wait this time (and we won't have another movie messing with the continuity lol). If you enjoyed it and want to help motivate me to finish this thing, be sure to leave me a comment!

**Author's Note:**

> [Check me out on tumblr.](http://cobwebbing.tumblr.com/)


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